


The Human Touch

by inkfishie



Series: True Colors [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Loves Shiro, Gen, Keith has a sad, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Platonic Soulmates, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Romantic Soulmates, Shiro loves everybody, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Space Battles, captive shiro, magical realism?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-29 19:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 78,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8502448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkfishie/pseuds/inkfishie
Summary: Sometimes a problem isn't really a problem. Sometimes a mountain is really just a mole-hill in disguise. And sometimes, Keith gets everything so spectacularly wrong that when it goes right he doesn't know what to do with himself. Angsty Soulmate AU with a happy ending, I promise :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey everyone, long time no see. So I took a minor break from the VLD fandom to work on some other stuff, and then my busy con season hit so I was caught up with that. During that time I kind of got bit by the soulmate AU bug, and had to get this one off my chest. Will be back with more of Constant Satellite later. The rating is up there for language and mentions of past abuse. Basically I just wanted an excuse to write cute platonic paladin soulmates with a side of Shiro/Keith. First draft is mostly done, just editing and all that jazz now. More to come soon! :)

The first time Keith had noticed it, it had been at the tail end of an uneventful day.

 

There had been no crisis to deal with or battles to be had. There were no Galra to beat into submission or planets to save. There hadn’t even been much going on in the castle, for Quiznak’s sake. In fact, Keith had spent most of the day to himself cloistered away in the library with his nose stuck in a book.

It was only after he’d joined the others for dinner that Keith decided he could use some company. So after the meal was finished, when Allura and Coran had gone their separate ways, Keith had followed his fellow paladins to the lounge.

Pidge had almost immediately sprawled out on the floor. Pecking away at her laptop now, the room was quiet save for the occasional snicker from Lance or Hunk. Huddled together on one end of the couch, the two of them were watching something on a data pad. They'd somehow located a pair of earbuds and each had one popped in their ear. Despite this, Keith could still hear the muted sound of whatever it was they were watching.

Keith meanwhile, had seated himself on the floor. Back propped against the curved shape of the couch and a book propped up on his bent knees. Behind him, Shiro lay sprawled out on couch cushions.... Asleep.

Stretched out on his back, Shiro’s robotic fingers rested atop his stomach; the soft, rhythmic sound of his breathing a soothing cadence to Keith’s ears. Shiro's other arm was stretched up over his head and tucked in against his cheek. Down the length of the couch, Shiro’s long legs were spread out and crossed neatly at the ankles. At some point, he'd pulled off his boots and they stood neatly beside Keith on the floor.

The expression on the older pilot's face was....Well, it was peaceful. It was so peaceful, in fact, that Pidge had promised death to anyone who woke Shiro after they'd noticed he'd fallen asleep.

It wasn’t that strange. Their fearless leader did, in fact, succumb to his body’s need for rest on occasion. He just generally did it in his own room. Even during their Garrison days, Keith had never seen Shiro sleep anywhere but his own room. Not even during exams when it was common for cadets to be found catnapping all over the damned place.

That, however, was before. Things were a bit _different_ now.

It was nice, though. So nice that Keith kept stealing surreptitious glances in Shiro’s direction. The older pilot's expression was soft and devoid of the habitual tightness it carried these days. Almost Keith could see glimpses of Shiro as he'd been before; The Shiro who laughed easily and smiled more often than not. He was still there somewhere, Keith caught flashes of him at times.

But somewhere between the terrors inflicted by the Galra, the war they'd been pulled in to and the stress of being a leader, those glimpses were becoming few and far between. Somehow, this had become their lives. And while Keith wouldn't have traded having Shiro back for the world, he wished it were simpler. Not that things between he and Shiro had ever been that all that simple. Keith just wished that...It was resolved.

Sighing, Keith glanced up from his book and angled his head in the sleeping paladin’s direction. Nothing had really changed. Not in recent days, nor since _then_. Feeling as though he’d suddenly swallowed a swarm of angry bees, Keith turned back to his book. The words scrambled across the page in his distraction and he scowled.

There was little use in falling in love with someone who didn't bear your soul color. Of course, Keith had been telling himself that for years now and it hadn't made a lick of difference. Especially when Keith had never been able to bury the ache inside him that told him that Shiro was his.

But it was unheard of to choose someone other than your designated soulmate. It just didn’t happen. And in all the time that Keith had known Shiro, he had never spied so much as a smudge of color on the other man's skin. Not in those moments after they had touched for the first time, nor in all the time that followed.

And Keith’s own skin, as far as he could tell, was a blank canvas waiting to be marked.

Maybe it was just that Keith didn’t have a color. Maybe he'd been stupid to believe that someone as good and fierce and strong as Shiro could ever be for someone like him. Maybe Fate was playing some massive fucking joke on Keith and had decided that he didn't deserve a soul mate.

At his breastbone, Keith's chest began to tingle and ache. Sighing quietly, Keith raised a hand to press the heel of his palm into the spot to soothe it. Behind him, Shiro was stirring. A few moments later and the cushions were shifting as the other man stretched himself awake. Keith felt fingers ruffle at his hair as Shiro sat up with a yawn.

“What time's it?” The older pilot asked. His voice was soft and slurred with sleep.

It made Keith's chest ache all the more.

“You’ve only been out for like a half hour,” Keith replied. He felt himself shrinking away from Shiro’s touch as it burned into his scalp.

The fingers in his hair drifted away. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith watched as Shiro pulled his arms over his head to stretch. It pulled the older pilot's spine into a shapely arch that was all shifting muscle and leonine grace. The movement also pulled at the bunched fabric of Shiro's snug shirt to reveal a stretch of skin at his flank. Keith glanced aside.

“Really?” Shiro queried. “It felt like longer. I guess I was tired."

“You should try and get more sleep then,” Keith replied. “We’ll be quiet if you want to lay back down.”

As if on cue, though, Hunk and Lance burst into sudden raucous laughter at the other end of the couch. Scowling, Keith shot a glare in their direction. Pidge did the same from where she had sprawled near Keith's feet.

“You goons are lucky he’s awake.” She said, hauling herself upright to sit cross-legged on the floor.

Lance, however, ignored Pidge. Instead, he was yanking the earbuds out of the data pad, and shuffling across the couch amidst his snickering. “Oh man, you’ve got to see this, Shiro!” He said as his legs shoved right into Keith’s space with little care.

Annoyed, Keith elbowed Lance's shin roughly. Scrambling aside to make room, Keith settled himself on the opposite side of Shiro's legs. Keith glowered at the blue paladin. Shiro meanwhile was offering up an apologetic smile, even as Lance scooted closer. Keith wrinkled his nose and decided to shrug it off.  There was some tapping on the data pad and then music was playing out into the room.

It was ridiculous sounding. Keith could tell by the music alone that the video probably just as ridiculous. But both Lance and Hunk were sniggering quietly and Shiro's mouth had curled up into a smile as well. It was stupidly gorgeous, Keith thought. Shiro was stupidly gorgeous, especially when he was smiling. The smile left Keith's insides squirming around all slippery and amorphous inside of him. Like they'd liquefied or something. Against his better judgment, Keith craned closer.

Maybe it was to see the data pad, maybe just to be closer to Shiro. But for a split second, the older paladin glanced away from the screen to pin Keith was a look that was…. Keith didn’t even _know_ what it was. But his lungs went all funny and all he could think about was pushing up into Shiro’s space and kissing the silly little smile right off his mouth.

Keith swallowed hard, desperate to tamp the urge down. He glanced aside, trying to regain control of himself. When he did he noticed a smudge of vivid, aquamarine blue staining the exposed skin at Shiro’s flank. It was as bright and clear as tropic waters shimmering in the afternoon sun.

Keith felt like he'd been shot out into the vacuum of space. He went hot and shivery all over and couldn’t stop the surprised grunt that pushed its way from his pinched lips. Above him, Shiro’s posture went stiff. There was tension in his voice, and for some reason Keith felt guilty for having been the cause of it.

“Keith? You okay, Buddy?” Shiro asked.

Keith dug the heel of his palm into his breastbone, hating the ache there that made his skin feel like it was on fire.

“I’m-- It’s nothing. I’m fine,” He replied and stood abruptly.

Had the mark been there before? How long had it been there?  Keith wasn’t sure, but somehow it felt as if he'd lost Shiro again; like he was a rocket hurtling to the ground at a thousand feet per second.

Keith snapped his eyes shut and turned aside. Trying to reign himself in and trying not to implode with all the force of a dying star. When he opened his eyes both Shiro and Lance were watching him. Lance even appeared to be concerned. Irrationally, Keith wanted to punch him. Or scream at him. But it really wasn't the blue paladin’s fault. Keith _knew_ that.

It was Fate with a capital F. It was utter and complete bullshit and it wasn't fair. Keith had no idea how he was supposed to deal with the fallout of something like this. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Shiro asked. His voice was kind and gentle.

“Yeah man, you look like you’re going to puke,” Lance added.

Keith snapped.

“I said I’m fine! Fuck _OFF_ , Lance!”  He shouted. He didn't wait to see what the reaction was. Keith turned and fled the room.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

The thing was, that it wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine in the slightest and probably wouldn’t be fine for the foreseeable future.

When Keith had been at Garrison, there had been no escape from the culture surrounding soulmates. After all, Garrison was for the most part comprised of young men and women in the prime of their lives. With all those urges and hormones and people packed together in one place it was a veritable playground for Fate to wreak havoc in. 

There was this idea that a chance encounter could lead to discovering that _one_ person for whom you were meant. It was an idea that permeated every aspect of popular culture. All it took was one touch, and the world was suddenly a brighter, happier place that made perfect sense.

But Keith hadn't believed any of that trite crap for a long time. If he were being honest he never really thought himself worthy of it anyway. He had seen more than his fair share of newly discovered soul-mates reveling in their new bond. They always seemed to be touching one another. Perhaps trying to infuse more color into their respective bond marks. Whatever the case, it tended to leave Keith feeling sullen and angry.

That was how you knew, after all. When soul mates touched for the first time, the world was apparently supposed to stop. Their eyes would meet and the skin where they had touched would suffuse with color and they would know. They called it the First Flush; it was the color of your mate's soul painted across your skin.

Keith called it a pain in his fucking ass.

Mostly because he'd woken one summer morning to the realization that he’d gone and fallen in love with his best friend. He wasn't even sure how it had happened, or how long he'd felt that way. Though getting caught in the rain with Shiro several days prior could have been the tipping point. All Keith could think about was the way that Shiro had smiled, and the moisture dripping from his dark hair. Keith was thinking about that, and the way Shiro had touched him when he realized he was in love.

Keith also realized was that he was royally screwed. Falling for your best friend was bad enough. Falling for your best friend who was not your soul mate was probably the worst idea in the entire fucking universe.

In short, Keith knew it was stupid to be in love with Shiro. He also knew that Shiro was not his soulmate. At least in so far as he could tell. The world hadn’t stopped when they had touched, and no bright, vibrant colors had crept out over Keith’s skin. He never stood a chance. Because even if Shiro didn’t say much about it, Keith knew that deep down his friend truly believed in all that saccharine, silly soulmate crap.

There wasn’t a chance in hell Shiro would give up whomever his mate was for someone like Keith. His feelings were nothing when pitted against something like Fate.

It sucked.

It sucked so hard that Keith had avoided Shiro for nearly three weeks trying to get his emotions in check. When Shiro finally managed to corner Keith, it was while he was sulking on the roof of one of the Garrison buildings. It was inevitable really. The campus was only so big and there were only so many places for Keith to hide. Even so, Keith probably would have run if it had been an option.

Approaching quietly, Shiro looked almost sickly and withdrawn under the dim yellow lights. Guilt gnawed at Keith’s guts, but it was apprehension that had him pressing his fist into his sternum. By the time Shiro got close enough to sit down, Keith was cursing every deity in the heavens for making him fall in love with Takashi Shirogane.

“Hey,” The older cadet said at length. He sounded terrible and sad.

Keith cursed more fiercely and squirmed under the weight of his own guilt. It was a while before he found his voice.

“Hey,” Keith said, but knew he’d given too much away with that one word alone. “I don’t... I don’t really want to talk about it.” Keith hurried to add before Shiro could reply.

Beside him, Shiro shifted closer; wary and careful. Then he turned to angle Keith with a look that was equal parts hurt and confusion. It was like a punch in the gut.

“I haven’t done something to-- This isn't about the other day, is it?” Shiro began.

Keith stopped him suddenly. “No, it’s not you. Or about the other day. I’ve just....I’ve had a lot on my mind. I needed to work through it. Sorry.”

Keith pressed his palm into his sternum a bit harder. And while it did little to soothe the ache there the action of doing so somehow made Keith feel a little better. But Shiro reached out suddenly to grasp Keith’s wrist between his fingers and drew it away from his chest. It was the same place the other cadet had grabbed Keith several days prior. It was only the second time Shiro had ever touched him in all the time they'd been friends.

“Keith.” 

Jerking in surprise, Keith’s gaze snapped up to meet Shiro’s. For a moment he was pinned in place, held by the helpless, indefinable emotion in Shiro's eyes. Then Keith was dropping his gaze to exposed skin of Shiro’s forearm. The cuffs were rolled up, but there was nothing but unblemished, lightly browned skin. Shiro had spent too much time out in the sun recently, Keith noted as his heart sunk into his stomach.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.” Keith said. His voice was stiff as he extricated himself from Shiro's grasp.

It was a lie, and Shiro knew it. But the older boy didn’t press it, and somehow Keith found that he was disappointed that Shiro hadn't.

Keith sighed and turned his gaze resolutely to the sky. It wouldn’t be fine, but he would learn to live with it eventually.

 

 

 

 ****

 

 

 

What Keith had never really foreseen though, was getting embroiled in an intergalactic war. A war which basically had him living out of the pockets of six other people. Trapped on a castle ship with nowhere to go, those six other people may as well have been the last six people in existence. Two weren't even the same species.

It wasn't all that bad. Even if Keith was still stupidly pining over the one man whom he couldn't have.  Okay, it _was_ that bad. Especially given Keith's discovery of what was apparently between Lance and Shiro now.

It hurt, of course, it hurt. It hurt like fucking hell and Keith was feeling hard pressed to keep his jealousy and anger in check. He’d spent most of the last few days avoiding the others. It was sheer dumb luck that there hadn't been any need for Voltron. Because if there had, Keith was pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to hold it together enough to do so. As it was, Keith was having a hard enough time focusing on the training drill that Allura had them running.

“Keith! Smarten up! That gladiator almost got me!” Lance shouted from where he was pressed to Keith’s back.

They were currently squaring off with three of the gladiator bots and a whole slew of flying laser bots. Ringed in a circle, each paladin was meant to be protecting their team-mates.

“Then fight less stupid!” Keith growled back, unable to concentrate on both Lance and the whirring bots around him.

Throwing up his shield, Keith was just in time to block an energy charge. It pinged off his shield and went zinging loudly into space behind him. It must've hit Lance's helmet because there was a muffled curse and an elbow shoved into Keith's side.

“Not helping, guys!” Hunk interjected amidst the bellowing discharge of his bayard. The higher-pitched sound of Lance’s weapon shooting off rounds followed mere seconds later.

 “Ranged weapons on flying bots, the rest on gladiators!” Shiro reminded with a shout, jarring Keith from his distracted thoughts.

But both Shiro and Pidge had moved before Keith had the chance to react, and he knew that things were about to go ass-up. Darting forward to face his own opponent, Keith met the gladiator’s slashing attack with a parry. Above him, the zing of laser fire zipped around his head. A flying bot fell with a loud crash near his feet. But Keith nearly tripped over it in his distraction and had to scuttle backward to avoid being hit by the gladiator's unforgiving attack.

Somewhere off to his side, Pidge and Shiro were engaged in their own enemy. Keith glanced in their direction for a split second and watched as Pidge scrambled up Shiro’s body to launch herself onto the gladiator. Mere seconds later its mechanical head was toppling from its shoulders in a flash of green as Pidge's weapon ripped through its neck. She was back on her on two feet in an instant. And whipping her weapon over Shiro’s head, downed a flying bot ready to zap the pair of them.

Meanwhile, Keith had let his own opponent come too close.  Biting back a strangled curse, Keith tried to raise his shield in time to parry its swinging arm. It was too late though and all of a sudden Keith was flying through the air. He went careening into Lance's feet which sent the blue paladin crashing down atop of Keith.

“Lance! Keith!” Hunk shouted.

In the confusion, Keith could hear the frenzied sound of Hunk's bayard discharging. He looked up to find that not only was a gladiator bearing down on the yellow paladin but several flying bots as well. Shit.

Struggling to push Lance away, Keith cursed. “Get off of me already!” He snapped.

“You’re the one who flew into me!” Lance shot back after he’d finally scrambled to his footing.

Keith was still on the floor when Pidge shot past them, hissing in rage, to go assist Hunk. But it was too late, Keith noted with a grim scowl. Even with Lance covering the other two, the gladiator had already gotten the best of Hunk. It was too close, and at that range the yellow paladin's blaster was all but useless. Keith was growling out in frustration as he raced forward to join the fray.

Somewhere off to Keith's side, he heard Shiro engaged with the third and last gladiator. But they were all taking heavy fire from the laser bots. There was still a fair few of them left and their shots pelted at Keith's armor. It sent painful little zaps of electricity crawling over his skin. Growling, he lifted his sword and leapt at the gladiator that was harrying the Lance, Hunk and Pidge.

It was something of a Hail Mary move, and one poor decision on the pile that was stacking against Keith. But Shiro must’ve been watching out of the corner of his eye. He must’ve known what Keith was about to do because he was suddenly bellowing from the other side of the training deck. 

"Keith! Stop!"

It was enough to cause Keith to falter. It was enough of a distraction to turn the gladiator’s attention in Keith’s direction. And Keith, his focus on Shiro, felt himself drop like a ton of brick as the gladiator kicked out at him. He sputtered; coughing as the air left his lungs and pain erupted throughout his midsection.

Dimly Keith was aware of Lance and Pidge shouting Hunk’s name... Of the crash of exploding machinery and the heavy sound of someone hitting the solid, rubbery floor. 

It was Shiro, voice tight and pained, who finally shouted “End simulation!”

The remaining bots froze, leaving the sound of heavy breathing. It was a long while before anyone spoke. Of course, when someone did, it had to be Lance.

“What the hell is wrong with you today!?” Lance shouted, stomping over to where Keith lay sprawled and wheezing on the floor. “Actually, strike that. What the quizzaking hell has been wrong with you all damned week?!” He demanded.

Keith glared up at the blue paladin, silent and seething. Had it not been for Shiro interjecting Keith might have lashed out.

“Lance, just leave it. That’s why we train, to learn from our mistakes.” Shiro said. He sounded like he was in pain.

Keith struggled upright, clutching at his chest plate. He wanted to pull it off but didn't. Instead he swung his gaze in Shiro’s direction. The older pilot was sitting on the floor, with his legs sprawled out in front of him and his shoulders curled inward. He didn’t appear to be too worse for wear, thankfully. But Keith did note that his helmet looked like it had taken a pretty nasty ding.

“But it was his fault you and Hunk got hurt,” Lance shot back, argumentative. He was glaring down at Keith, expression tight and angry, his hands on his hips.

Keith frowned, guilt gnawing at his insides. To his left Pidge was helping Hunk clamber up to his feet.

"It was a mistake, man. Relax. Shit happens. We’ll do better next time.” The yellow paladin said once he was upright.

Keith didn’t feel better about the situation. Especially when Lance huffed out a loud, disbelieving snort. “Look, I’m sorry, okay!?” Keith snapped. He felt... Stupid. Especially when everyone was being so forgiving about his glaringly obvious lack of focus. Well, everyone except Lance.

“Yeah well sorry isn’t good enough! Someone could’ve gotten seriously hurt. That gladiator damned near took off Shiro’s head. And what about you, Hunk? That thing almost knocked you out cold!”

From where he was sat on the floor, Shiro released a long, beleaguered sigh. "Lance, that’s enough. Everyone is fine. I’m fine. It wasn’t done on purpose.”  He said, and his tone was surprisingly gentle. It seemed to calm Lance at any rate because his posture relaxed despite the way he continued to glare at Keith.

But it rankled, the way in which Shiro had spoken to Lance. It did more than that, in fact. It left Keith burning with a jealousy that had his guts feeling like churning like acid. He hated it. He hated it so much that he bent forward to clench his fists in his lap lest his hurt get the better of him.

“Let's take a break for now,” Shiro announced from his side of the training deck. Keith was still wallowing in self-pity when there was a sudden yelp from across the room. Pidge was prodding at their leader, careful as she tried to coax him out of his armor.

“Oh don’t be a big baby. I want to make sure you’re okay.”  Pidge scolded gently.

Keith’s anger deflated and he slumped forward, defeated and morose. Lance hadn't been wrong, it really had been Keith's fault that things had gone to shit.

Scowling, gut twisting with jealousy and guilt, Keith watched as Pidge finally got Shiro free of his armor. She then bullied him into unzipping the black suit beneath and helped him ease the fabric off. There was and angry red welt blooming across Shiro's back and shoulders. Clearly he'd been walloped quite hard. It looked like it was going to leave one hell of a bruise and it would likely be tender for a day or two.

It was just what Keith needed to feel like even more of an ass. He scowled and wondered if he could talk Shiro into popping into a rejuvenation pod for a few minutes. It would at least take the edge off the abraded skin.

Pidge it seemed had the same idea.

“Just go. Twenty minutes tops and you’ll be good as new.” She said.

Predictably, Shiro hedged.

“It just seems like a waste of resources, I’ll be fine in a day or two. Besides, Hunk got hit harder than I did. He should be the one going in.”  He told Pidge as he craned his head back to peer at her from over his shoulder.

Pidge rolled her eyes and jabbed sharply at the welt. Shiro yelped and all but pouted at the youngest paladin as he rubbed at the spot.

“That hurt,” He declared.

“Don’t _make_ me drag you,” Pidge warned in rebuttal. She was leveling Shiro with a look as cold as ice. Slowly, Shiro’s frown softened into a fond smile. Keith could see the moment where he decided to relent. Shiro was laughing as he gingerly began to pull his suit back up over his shoulders.

“Okay, okay, you win, Pidgeon,” Shiro announced, tone light and affectionate.  He’d paused his dressing to reach out and bat at the back of Pidge’s leg. She hopped aside but reached out to muss Shiro’s hair.

But Keith wasn’t watching the playful tussle. Nor was he paying attention to Hunk cheering Pidge on from the side-lines. Keith was transfixed by the flush of cheerful, peridot green that was radiating up Shiro's left bicep. Confused, Keith couldn’t help but gawk.

As far as Keith knew, a person could only have one color.

 

He pushed the heel of his palm up under his breast plate and dug it into his aching chest.

 

 

 

 ***

 

 

 

Keith would never admit it now, but when he had been a child he had almost believed in all that soulmate bullcrap.

He would listen to his mother as she whispered stories in his ear. Stories about how someday he would feel that First Flush; How it would tingle and burn and fill him with so much love that he wouldn’t be able to stand it. She filled his head with all sorts of pretty, romantic ideas about destiny and Fate and the true color of love.

She would speak of it so often that many nights Keith would lay awake at night and imagine rainbows spreading out over his skin. He would think of all the lovely, vibrant colors and how he longed to have them splashed out over his body so that he would be so bright and beautiful.

Keith would also close his eyes and dream about what color his soulmate would paint him in. He wondered what color his own soul was, and hoped it was a shade that was luminous and bold. He could never pick his favorite though, because he loved all colors equally. Whatever color ended up streaked across his skin Keith was sure he would love it. Because that would mean Keith himself was loved and treasured. It would mean that to someone, he was special.

But for all his mother’s stories of love and color and the power of Fate, the only hues painted across her skin were mottled purples, and blues. By the time Keith was seven he often bore a rainbow to match. Soon he began to think that if he were bigger and stronger that he could press the same colors into his step father’s skin.

He was too big and too angry though, and Keith hated the way his mother would cry and cry and cry on nights when he came home mean and drunk. It was on those nights she kept Keith huddled close, speaking in hushed whispers that it would all be okay. That he hadn’t _meant_ it and that they had to do better.

Even if Keith's step-father hadn't meant it though, Keith still noted the way that his mother would press her fingers to the phantom streak of color at the inside of her elbow. It was as if she was trying to revive the vibrancy of it, to return the lustre of the shade it must've been in the past.

It was the only thing either of them had left of Keith’s father.

It was a rainy, winter night when Keith's mother died.  The car had been going a bit too fast, his step-father a bit too drunk to drive. The car had slid on the slick pavement and had crashed spectacularly in to a ditch, belly-up. Fate didn't seem to care that it had left Keith all alone in the world at ten years old. He didn't know it until following morning when children's services came for him.

Keith remembered that the sky that day had been slick and washed out, like silty, brackish water. He also remembered feeling very little when he was told what had happened. Keith supposed he ought to have been glad that at least his step-father was gone. But all he could think of were the bruises in the shape of fingerprints on his mother's skin and the way she must’ve looked in that car.

Keith didn’t cry at the funeral. Nor did he feel much of anything when he was packed up with all his meager belongings and sent to live elsewhere. Keith had no living relatives that wanted him, so the state took him on. Left behind like some unwanted, broken thing, Keith let all the beautiful, lovely colors he imagined run away in a wash of gray.

Fate and ever-lasting love could go fuck itself. It was all a massive load of crap anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I has my own Shiro, pls? I love him so much ;_;  
> Anyway, enjoy and follow me on tumblr @ Inkfishie 
> 
> Any mistakes are my own so sorry in advance :)

What was so infuriating about the situation was that Keith knew just how easy it was to fall in love with Shiro. He had this way about him and this gravity that was damned near impossible to escape. Once you were caught, that was it. His innate warmth and kindness had reduced even Keith's walls to rubble and ash, so really, Keith understood.

Even on his bad days, even when Shiro was hurting, he inspired such fierce loyalty from his friends.

But what Keith didn't understand was what he had seen on the training deck. Keith had never heard of someone having more than one color. Shiro, the anomaly that he was, somehow had two. Well, two that Keith was aware of at any rate.

To say it didn't bother him would have been a lie. Actually, it bothered Keith a damned lot. It sent his thoughts spinning out of control and his needy, little heart hammering in his chest. It also left him wondering if Lance and Pidge wore smudges Shiro’s color as well.

Sullen, and feeling out of sorts, Keith was surprised that no one had approached him yet. He had a rather steady tally of weirdness working against him so far this week. Honestly, he had expected Shiro to confront him. So when it was Hunk, Keith was actually somewhat relieved. 

“So, like, what’s up with you lately?"

They were in the castle kitchen. Keith had gone in search of snacks and had found Hunk instead. The yellow paladin was working on something that included their usual food goo and a fair amount of exotic, alien fruit.

With the mess in his head, Keith had been sort-of-not-really-but-really avoiding the other three. It had been a bit lonely, to be honest. Hunk's company was more than welcome and Keith found that he actually wanted to talk to someone. Two heads were better than one after all. Besides, Hunk was much more intuitive when it came to relationships and people and all that sort of stuff. Even so, Keith was having trouble sorting his thoughts as he hopped up onto the kitchen counter to sit. He thumped his heels against the cupboards a few times; loud and distracting.

“I-- Nothing really. I don’t know,” He began with a frustrated grunt. Across from him, Hunk was giving Keith a knowing, easy look. Keith huffed out a loud sigh and wrinkled his nose at the other paladin.

“Just take your time and get it off your chest, man. You’ve been all prickly for days now. It can’t feel good.” Hunk said gently.

Feeling a sudden surge of affection, Keith relaxed. The tightness went out of his shoulders and he rubbed at his forearm which had gone all itchy and warm. The knot in his head seemed less daunting somehow. Still, it took Keith a moment to choose his words.

“I was just thinking about... Colors.” Keith started, hesitant. “Not colors in general, but... I mean. You know. _Colors_.” Ugh. He sounded like a complete moron. Hunk, stand up friend that he was, was waiting patiently for Keith to continue. “I mean like soulmates and all that crap.” Keith finally finished.

He was all but squirming with embarrassment. Keith’s complete inexperience with the concept was probably evident now. Well, inexperience as far as actually _having_ a soulmate anyhow. Keith thumped his heels against the counter again, feeling fidgety and unsure of himself.

But the open expression on Hunk’s face was shifting into confusion. Concern pinched his brows as he regarded Keith carefully.

“You mean like bond-colors?”

Keith frowned, uncomfortable under Hunk’s scrutiny. “Yeah, I guess,” He replied. “I was just wondering if you knew much about it.”

Hunk put down the spoon in his hand to lean across the countertop. He was watching Keith intently. Like he was trying to decide something. “Did something happen between you and Shiro?” He finally asked.

Wait. _What_?

But Keith didn’t get the chance to respond. Louder than it had any right to, the kitchen door whooshed open, the sound sudden and jarring in the quiet. Startled, both Keith and Hunk whipped their heads in the direction of the door.

It was Shiro. Of course, it had to be Shiro.

Feeling like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Keith's face went hot. The odd little sound that pinched his throat must've been confirmation enough for Hunk that something was amiss because the yellow paladin yelped out a startled noise and clutched his hand to his chest.

"Geeze, man! You just scared the crap out of us!" He exclaimed.

Shiro, looking somewhat spooked where he had paused by the door, eyed the two of them. Flush and damp from the shower, the older paladin's snowy bangs were slicked back off his forehead. The ends of his hair dripped onto the towel that he had slung around his broad, bare shoulders. He had traded out his usual long-sleeved shirt and vest for a dark tank. It exposed the length of his, muscular, scarred arms and clung to the broadness of his chest and back.

It threw Keith for a bit of loop for some reason. He knew he was staring, he wasn’t sure why he was staring, just that he knew he was. He forced his eyes up, noting the way his gaze dragged along the cut of Shiro’s body. For a second their eyes met, and Keith supposed the black paladin looked just as guilty as Keith felt. Shiro was too good to mention Keith’s strange behavior in front of Hunk though. Keith was glad for it. Shiro smiled at Keith instead, small and sad, then turned toward Hunk.

“Hey, Hunk. I didn’t think anyone would be down here, you two startled me a bit.” Shiro confessed with an easy laugh.

Irrationally, Keith felt a shameful stab of jealousy. He kicked his heels into the counter and tumbled right off when the cupboard door popped open with the force of his kick. Both Hunk and Shiro both shot a look in his direction.

“Keith? You okay?” Shiro asked. He took a step toward Keith, whirring, mechanized arm outstretched to help him up.

Staring rather stupidly, Keith nodded. But did not reach out to take Shiro’s hand. He was still staring like an absolute idiot when Hunk cleared his throat and spoke.

“Err. Your eyes look like they’re about to pop out of your head, man,” Hunk noted very unhelpfully.

Fuck. Keith had been staring. All creepily and weird. Probably because Shiro’s skin was suddenly an unknown quantity. He hadn’t spied Pidge or Lance’s mark, but Keith knew they had to be there. And Shiro, seemingly uncomfortable now, glanced aside. He drew back, then his flesh-and-bone fingers were moving to cover the join between gnarled scar tissue and metal.

Fuckity fuck. Fuckity, fuck it all.

“Aren’t you cold wearing that?” Keith blurted. But the statement had stilled Shiro's fingers where they were digging into the metal at his bicep. He quirked a curious brow in Keith’s direction.

“Not really,” Shiro replied. “I just finished up on the training deck. Still kind of warm.”

And that was just about all Keith had to contribute to the conversation. Besides the obvious questions that were burning on his tongue, of course. But it wasn’t something he was about to bring up in the company of others, even if it was only Hunk. So Keith kept his mouth shut.

Only, he was still staring. And didn’t realize until Shiro arched a brow in concern. The silence drew itself out, becoming awkward and uncomfortable. Hunk was the one who finally broke the stillness by coughing rather loudly.

“Riiight, okay. That’s not really awkward at all.” The yellow paladin declared. “Anyway. Anything new? How about that new training level, tough huh?”

Christ. That was just as bad as Keith’s ogling. The strange stand-off ended when Shiro turned toward Hunk.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Shiro agreed. His gaze darted in Keith’s direction, confused. Keith could see him trying to puzzle out what was going on even as he spoke. “I was actually looking for something to eat. Sorry if I interrupted something.”

“Oh, cool I can do food! Look, I have food right here! ” Hunk exclaimed.

“You’re not interrupting anything!” Keith somehow blurted at the same time.

Shiro regarded the two of them thoughtfully. For a tick or two, it was silent. But then Hunk was reaching out to tug Shiro over to the counter where he urged the black paladin to sit. Shiro eased himself down onto a stool. He still looked unsure of himself as Hunk bustled to get him something to eat.

“Here, come sit. I’ve got food right here, boss man.” Hunk said, pushing a variety of his experiments in Shiro’s direction. “I’ve been working on this all morning, man.”

Inspecting the variety of dishes laid out before him, Shiro glanced up at Hunk. He nodded toward the fruit-and-goo concoction. “What’s this one then? It smells pretty good.”

Grinning, Hunk sketched out a surprisingly deft bow as he snatched out at Shiro’s towel. He draped it over a forearm then gestured toward the dish.

“Here we ‘ave ze weird alien space fruit simmered in an alien goo reduction. A fine choice, M'sieur. Pairs well with ze weird alien capri sun,” He said, putting on what was quite frankly a ridiculous attempt at a French accent.

Shiro laughed, loud and sudden. The sound had Keith’s heart lurching up into his throat.

“I see,” Shiro said. The tightness of his expression had become a beaming grin. For half a tick he aimed the smile in Keith's direction before turning to grin up at the yellow paladin. “Looks really...Alienny?”

“Oh, it’s super alienny, my dude. Alienny in the extreme.” Hunk agreed with a grin.

Shiro took a bite then and surprise lit his features. He released a soft, pleased groan. “Oh, this is _good_.” He pushed the plate in Keith’s direction. But not before he scooped up another heaping spork-full “You have to try this, Keith. It’s delicious.”

The sound that followed the proclamation was damned near _obscene_. It had all the butterflies in Keith’s gut zipping up his throat and clambering to get out all at once. Heat rose in his face and Keith fumbled with his own spork. He nearly dropped it when Shiro grunted in satisfaction yet again.

“Mmmn, this is so good. It almost tastes like apple pie. I haven’t had apple pie in forever,” Shiro was saying now.

Keith finally managed to get a bite of his own, and had to agree. It _was_ good. But the boyish grin on Shiro’s face was distracting. Shiro had wolfed down half the plate before Keith managed to steal another bite.

“Can you make more of this?” Shiro asked, enthusiastic.

“Of course, man. Shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll make some up for dinner.” Hunk replied. He was clearly pleased with himself and clapped a hand over Shiro’s bare shoulder.

“Great. Thanks, Hunk,” It was a genuine remark on their leader’s behalf.

Keith noted that a flush of pleasure colored the yellow paladin’s face. Despite that his reply came on a somewhat bashful note.

“Aww, don’t mention it, Shiro. I’m just glad you like it.”

“I do, it’s really great, Hunk. Thanks.” Shiro said. His smile grew more luminous, more boyish. His gray eyes were alight with some blithe, airy emotion that Keith hadn't seen in a lifetime.

It had Keith's breath constricting in his throat. His heart hammered loudly in his chest. Shifting, uncomfortable, Keith pushed his hand into his sternum to ease the unexpected ache of it.

Shiro must have caught the motion out of the corner of his eye because he turned in Keith’s direction. His face was alight, beaming smile still tacked firmly in place.

Keith’s heart damned near skipped a beat.

Fucking hell, Keith thought. Unable to keep himself from offering up a smile in return, Keith pushed the plate back in Shiro’s direction.

"Here, you have it," Keith told him.

Shiro laughed and scooped the remains of Hunk's dessert into his mouth.

It was then that Keith decided that there was no way in hell that he was ever going to be okay with this. Fates be damned, Keith would never not be in love with Shiro. Not even if he wore all the colors in the universe except Keith’s. And speaking of colors... A deep goldenrod yellow had started to fan out across Shiro's deltoid and clavicle. It was soft and lovely reminded Keith of leaves in autumn. Almost Keith was jealous, but when he looked up to find his friends smiling and happy he found that he wasn't.

 

***

 

In general, Keith wasn’t overly fond of being touched.  Physical affection was something that he’d only ever allowed with his mother. The idea of being casually touched by a stranger was off-putting to him. Keith supposed if there was someone he was close to it would be okay. But on the whole, Keith disliked it. A few of his foster parents had tried to hug and squeeze Keith as a child, but he'd quickly made it known how he felt about it.

As a result, Keith had grown to be somewhat prickly and unapproachable. It was a good defense against unwanted attention, physical or otherwise. It was just as well. Keith preferred to be alone. People were messy, complicated and hard to understand. He often times distrusted their motivations. There was almost always something that they expected or wanted.

Keith's mother, on the other hand, had always loved to be around people. She liked to watch them. Maybe the noise of their lives distracted her from her own. Maybe she liked to think that they were luckier than she had been. Maybe it gave her hope that true and endless love could exist for someone else even though her own life had gone to shit.

Keith was never sure what his mother’s motives were, just that she loved the idea of people and love and all that other crap that Keith had sworn off forever. Had she been alive he might have asked her to explain it. The one thing that Keith was sure of though, was that he refused to be tied to the memory of a ghost. He didn’t want to spend his life sick with love the way she had. He didn’t want to live a half-life in shades of gray, dying slowly over a mark etched into his skin.

So Keith kept himself apart.

And it was to that end that he was out on the quad one morning when he just happened to meet Shiro. There hadn’t been anything particularly special about the day. Keith was studying for a class he detested. It wasn’t that it was a particularly hard class, it was that it was boring as hell. Unfortunately, it was also a prerequisite for entry into the fighter pilot program. So a passing grade was a must. Even so, Keith still cursed all the old gods and the new for having to waste so much time with this class.

The class was boring, the class was tedious. The class was starting in five minutes according to the time on Keith’s laptop.

Cursing, Keith scrambled to gather up his belongings. He’d have to make a dash for it and hope he wasn’t too late. He was halfway across the quad when he heard a voice shouting after him.

“Hey, wait!”

Startled, Keith thumped to a halt and whipped around. An older cadet was hustling in Keith’s direction. He was tall and well-built. He looked vaguely familiar, but Keith couldn’t place it. Keith really didn’t have the time, to be honest. Had the older cadet not been waving a laptop at him, Keith might’ve ignored him entirely. It was only when he got closer that Keith noted K.Kogane in blocky script affixed to the device.

Well _shit_.

“Fuck. Thanks.” Keith said in a hurry. He shot out a hand to take the proffered device.

“No worries, just glad I caught you,” The older cadet replied kindly.

In typical circumstances, this might’ve been where Keith was meant to introduce himself. But time was ticking, so for a beat, he hovered awkwardly then gestured over his shoulder.

“Well, err-- I have to go so...” He said.

“Oh! Right, sorry about that.” The other cadet replied.

Another beat, then Keith turned to go. He’d barely taken a step before he was dragged back into the conversation. Inwardly Keith groaned. He didn’t have time for this shit. He was already late.

“Kogane, huh? You’re not the one from the first year with the crazy scores on the sim, are you?”

A rush of something that was equal parts wariness and peevishness flooded Keith’s awareness. It wasn’t the first time he’d been approached with that question. Half the time it had ended in verbal fisticuffs because people were complicated and always _wanted_ something.

“...What if I am?” Keith finally answered with care, though perhaps a bit more defensive than he’d meant.

The older cadet seemed to ignore Keith’s testiness and offered up a warm, albeit careful, smile.

“I was just wondering. You’re clearly skilled to have mastered the sims so quickly. I remember how hard they are."

Hard? Su-uuure. A child could’ve flown those first-year sims with no problems. Frowning, Keith appraised the older cadet with a raised brow. The other boy’s open expression shifted, becoming abashed and somewhat crestfallen. He seemed to parse over what it was he wanted to say a long moment before actually speaking up.

“Anyway, I shouldn’t keep you. I just wanted to say nice flying. I’ll bet you’re a shoe in for Fighter Class with scores like that.”

Keith shuffled where he stood, uneasy with suspicion. He felt a twist in anxiety in his gut and eyed the taller cadet critically. There didn’t appear to be any guile hidden in his warm, gray eyes. Finally, Keith shrugged and glanced aside.

“Yeah...Umm Thanks. I guess.” He said finally. There was another beat of silence, and then Keith glanced away. “Look, I have to go. I’m late for class.”

The older cadet huffed out a sudden, embarrassed laugh. For a second it seemed like he might reach out to shake Keith’s hand. When he didn’t Keith found that he was relieved.

“Sorry to keep you. I’m Shiro by the way. I’ll see you around sometime.” The older cadet said.

Yeah right, Keith thought. He’d probably never see this Shiro character again except in passing. He shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“Yeah I guess," Keith replied. He hovered another beat or two, then turned to hurry off to the class that he was already late for.

 

Keith didn’t think of the incident until a week or so later.

 

During that time he hadn’t bumped into the other cadet, in the quad or otherwise. In fact, Keith had almost put the whole affair entirely out of mind until one afternoon in the mess hall.

Nose buried in his notes and laptop open, Keith was working on a paper for one of his classes. Settled in the back of the noisy room, he was just about to pack it in and find somewhere quieter to work when he heard a voice from across the table.

“Kogane, right? Is it okay if I sit here?”

Keith looked up. It was the cadet who had returned his laptop. Shiro, Keith’s mind supplied, as he looked up in confusion. The older boy was huffing out a nervous little laugh as Keith blinked up at him.

“Or not. I mean, if you’re busy I can go somewhere else.”

Keith frowned thoughtfully. He _was_ busy, and he really didn’t want the company but… The impulse to move his things was suddenly there, so Keith followed through. Pulling his books closer, he made room at the table for Shiro to sit. Keith nodded at the empty chair across from him.

“It’s fine. You can sit. I’m just working, no big deal.” He replied.

Shiro smiled. Keith, still a bit wary of the other cadet’s motives, watched as he dropped down into the chair and tucked into his lunch. He didn’t try to start a conversation, nor did he encroach on Keith’s space. It was a bit questionable, so for a few minutes, Keith watched the other boy surreptitiously over the lid of his computer. After a while, Keith found that he was satisfied with this and went back to his work.

Surprisingly, the silence between them was comfortable. Keith worked quietly as Shiro ate his lunch. It wasn’t until Keith paused to suck down the rest of his tepid coffee that Shiro finally spoke up.

“You’re a really talented pilot, Kogane. I saw your scores from earlier today.”

Unexpectedly Keith felt himself flush with the praise. Until he realized that even _he_ didn't know his scores from that morning. He eyed Shiro speculatively.

“How do you know my scores? Iverson hasn’t even posted them yet. I just checked.”

Across the table, Shiro looked a bit like he’d just been caught in some sort of lie. He offered up a sheepish little grin.

“I kind of asked him. After I bumped into you last week I was curious. So when I heard that you’d been in the sim today I had to see for myself.” Shiro admitted.

Keith could only stare in disbelief, unsure of what to make of that.

“So,” Keith began, voice flat. “You just waltzed up to Iverson and asked for my scores and he _gave_ them to you? Before he’s even posted them to the _class_?”

Shiro looked even more sheepish. His shoulders slumped forward as he huffed out a nervous laugh. “Err, Yeah. I guess that’s pretty much how it went.”

Keith stared, confused beyond words. Something was bubbling up inside and before Keith could stop himself he was giving to it.

“Okay. That’s cool. Great.” He huffed out, frustrated. “Because Iverson just gives out that information to random cadets like it’s no big deal. Who the hell are you?” Keith demanded.

Across the table, Shiro looked a little surprised himself. He recovered quickly though and shifted restlessly. It was clear to Keith he was searching for the right response. But whatever it was he’d been about to say, Shiro never got the chance. Before he could reply another cadet was jogging over to their table. He called out as he approached.

“Takashi, there you are! Dad’s been looking all over for you. He sent me to find you.”

Turning from Keith, Shiro glanced up at the newcomer. He was short with sandy hair and glasses. He nodded in Keith’s direction as he came to a halt, his mouth was stretched into something of a sly smile.

“Oh, _hey_. You must be the infamous K. Kogane. I’m Matt Holt. Nice to meet you finally.”

“Err, hey,” Keith mumbled in greeting, at a loss.

“Hope this lug isn’t bothering you. He’s been going on about your sim scores for weeks now. Looks like he finally plucked up the courage to come say hello,” Matt went on.

Across the table, Shiro was looking a little red-faced and shell-shocked. Keith glanced between the two cadets and frowned in confusion.

“Matt,” Shiro hissed. “Stuff it, okay?” He glared at his friend for a long moment. Then he was turning to offer Keith an apologetic if not helpless look.

At once, Keith felt out of his depth. There was something going on here that he wasn’t privy to. It left him feeling unsure as to how he was to proceed. This was why he kept to himself. People were complicated. Not to mention there was a knowing grin plastered across this Matt's face that made Keith feel uncomfortable. The bespectacled cadet laughed and reached out to pat Shiro’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay. Fine.” He said to Shiro. Then to Keith: “Sorry to steal Golden Boy away from you, Kogane. I’ve been sent to collect him. I’ll send him back when I’m done. Promise.”

Keith said nothing. Frustration was still warring with his utter lack of understanding of the situation. Across the table, Shiro was shuffling to his feet with quick, jerky motions. He was embarrassed, Keith realized belatedly. The taller boy shot Matt a pointed look before shifting his attention back to Keith.

“Sorry,” He apologized. Though for what, Keith wasn’t sure. “I’ll see you around I guess.”

Shiro grabbed his tray, then he was off dragging Matt along behind him. Keith watched as they retreated. It wasn’t until they were out of earshot that Shiro leaned in to speak to the sandy-haired cadet. It was clearly a heated conversation if the stormy look on Shiro’s face was anything to go by.

Over the commotion of the dining hall, Keith couldn’t hear a word of it. Matt did, however, turn back to glance in Keith’s direction. He earned a sharp elbow in his side from Shiro for his troubles. They walked a few more paces and then Matt stopped abruptly. For a second it seemed as though he were about to turn and head back in Keith’s direction. But then Shiro was snatching at the other cadet’s arm and dragging him toward the door.

Finally, they were gone. Though not before Shiro paused by the trash barrels to dump and return his tray.

Well. That was…Weird.

Keith sat stewing over it for a while, then sat stewing even longer.

Keith was still trying to puzzle out the encounter later that night as he lay awake staring at the ceiling of his dorm room. When inspiration finally struck it had him leaping out of bed to scramble for his laptop. The noise left Keith's bunkmate cursing at him to quiet down, but Keith ignored it as his device booted. He logged into the Garrison website as soon as it loaded and did a search for Shiro’s name.

He got a hit under the student database and clicked it open. A page with Shiro’s name, photo and current career track popped up. It was nothing incriminating. Full name Takashi Shirogane, listed as Fighter Class. The photo was nice enough, showing a smiling Shiro who was all confidence and boyish charm. Much better than Keith’s own photo at any rate. He was scowling in his, and his haircut looked weird.

What gave Keith pause though was the name. Keith might not have been involved with most of his peers, but even he knew that T. Shirogane was the best damned pilot in Garrison. Class Hero, Star Cadet, Iverson’s little project, etc. etc. Keith had been chasing after his sim scores for weeks now and had nearly caught up.

Keith scowled, snapped the lid of his laptop shut, and set it aside. No wonder Shiro had been so interested in him. Keith flopped backward atop his mattress and worried at his lip thoughtfully. The older cadet was probably just trying to keep his 'enemies close' or some shit like that. But Keith couldn’t afford to get embroiled in a petty rivalry. It was a pointless distraction and stupid besides. So as Keith fell asleep he resolved not to get involved with the likes of T. Shirogane.

Of course, when Keith ran into Shiro three days later his resolve cracked like an egg in two minutes flat. The older cadet was funny, and kind and the two had a lot more in common than Keith realized. In short, Keith had been totally wrong about Shiro and was not-so-secretly pleased with the discovery.

Somehow, Keith found himself with a friend. He’d never really had one of those before. At least not one who had become so close so fast.  Keith, of course, had been hesitant at first. But Shiro had somehow managed to break through his defenses as easily as if they were made of paper. Shiro was just so easy to be with. He was easy to talk to, and easy to smile. Keith never stood a snowball’s chance in hell.

Still, it was months and months into their friendship before they happened to touch.

 

Sitting out in the quad one afternoon Shiro was helping Keith study for an exam when the sky had become black and ominous like a spill of India ink.

“Think it’ll rain?” Shiro asked. His gaze was turned up toward the sky, revealing the tan column of his bared neck.

Beneath his flapping collar, his skin was dewy with perspiration. Keith was distracted by the dip of Shiro’s clavicle and the dampness in the small divot at the base of his throat. He found he wanted to touch the spot.

That particular day the early summer heat had set in at full force. Most cadets had forsaken the dry heat outside for the air conditioning within. But Keith, ever stubborn to remain in open spaces as much as possible, had insisted on being outside. He was now regretting the decision despite their being alone in the quad.

Both he and Shiro had rolled up their sleeves and unbuttoned their shirts to let some air into their clothes, but it was proving a fruitless endeavor.

“Dunno. You’re supposed to be helping me study, not daydreaming.” Keith scolded. He felt like a fraud, though. He was doing the same thing except he was looking at Shiro instead of the sky.

Shiro laughed and turned his gaze away from the heavens. He smiled at Keith.

“Fair enough,” Shiro returned.

It was hard to focus after that. So when the first drops splatted wet and heavy against the hot tar, Keith was thankful. Even if it did mean he was about to get soaked. He jumped up, scrambling to gather his things up into his backpack before they were ruined.

“I knew it!” Shiro crowed as they raced across the courtyard for the door.

The older cadet was laughing when he suddenly snatched Keith by the wrist and tugged him in under a covered pavilion to escape the rain. Keith laughed as well, allowing the momentum of his body to drag him into Shiro’s space. He shot out a hand to steady himself and grabbed onto Shiro’s forearm as he stumbled. He glanced up to find Shiro’s mouth had curved into a warm smile. His dark hair was plastered to his face and was dripping water down the curves of his cheeks.

“Easy!” The Shiro exclaimed with a grin.

Keith grinned as well, slow and easy. The rain pounded on the pavilion's roof. It was a long moment before Keith realized that he and Shiro had touched, but nothing had happened. Keith hadn't even known that he had been anticipating this moment until it was over and done with.

But there was no tingle, nor itch, nor sudden suffusion of color. Time didn't stop or any of those other things that were supposed to happen. There was nothing save for Shiro watching him expectantly, and the smell of rain soaking into the hot ground. Keith drew away. Disappointment churned in his stomach. Struggling to pull the sleeves of his shirt down, Keith tried to focus anywhere but on the unmarked skin of his wrist.

Shiro, as if sensing the gravity of the moment, offered up a sad little smile.

“Sorry,” He said. Though Keith wasn’t sure if Shiro was apologizing for having nearly tripped him or...The other thing. Crossing his arms then, Shiro's fingers twitched near his right forearm where Keith had just touched scant moments ago.

There was nothing there either. No mark, nor color. There was nothing.

Keith turned away, watching the storm. Suddenly he was glad for the sound of the rain pounding on the roof. It was loud enough to cover the sound of his heart thundering in his ears. The ache of bitter disappointment dragged at him, making Keith’s eyes prickle unexpectedly. He took a breath to steady himself against it. The loud, angry voice in Keith's head was telling him that this is what he got for allowing himself to get close to people. Keith scowled.

Four days later Keith woke to the realization that he had stupidly fallen in love with Shiro.

 

All these years later Keith still thought it was his best worst mistake ever.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, everyone. I originally thought this chapter was too short, so I wanted to add to it. Then it was too long. But I didn't want to post this without the other part so erm...Double update? Yay :D? 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me. As always you can find me on tumblr @Inkfishie

 

 

“Hunk, Lance, cover fire now! Keith, you’re with me!”

It was a bark of a command, shouted out over the comms by the Black Paladin.

Around them, the chaos of a firefight reigned. Pidge was pinned down by enemy craft and taking heavy fire to her already damaged lion. There could be no mistakes here, not when there were lives at risk. Slamming Red away from a pack of drone ships, Keith scrambled after Shiro.

Over the comm, Pidge was snarling out a string of curses. Lance and Hunk were coordinating their cover fire but Keith could hear the panic in their voices.

“Hang on, Pidge. We’re coming,” Shiro assured, voice tight and even.

Ahead the black lion was laying waste to the enemy ships that were in its path. Shooting ahead, Keith pulled into the opening and crashed headlong into a pack of them. He was quick and brutal; blasting and clawing through the machinery indiscriminately.

“Guys, hurry! Green’s particle barrier is failing!” Pidge shouted.

Keith could see her on the display, valiant and savage as she continued to tear through the enemy ships. But there were just too many of them and Keith, frantic, pushed Red faster. He had to even the odds.

“I’m almost here, I’ve got you, Pidge!”

Red shot forward, graceless as she slammed up into Green's side. But Keith was on the drones in an instant. The machinery cracked and sprayed sparks as Red snapped them up in her jaws and flung their remains aside.

Somewhere close to their position, Shiro was after the rest of the swarm. There was a loud burst of fire, and Keith cursed as he moved Red to shield Pidge. The two of them lurched violently to the side as they were hit and Keith cursed loudly.

“We need some cover over here!” He shouted.

Hunk’s voice boomed over the comm. “Got you, little buddy!”

Above them, a beam of light from Hunk’s energy canon pierced through the blackness. The drone ships in its path exploded into twinkling dust. Safe for now, Shiro’s voice cut over the comm.

“Katie, are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Green’s down, though. Her particle barrier is shot. There's also something wrong with the weapon’s relay,” Pidge returned. “We’re gonna have to take them out the hard way.”

Shiro blew out a loud, frustrated breath. “Fuck it all.”

It was uncharacteristic Keith noted. Even in the heat of battle, it wasn't typical for Shiro to swear. Then again, there had been nothing typical about this operation from the get-go. Keith was starting to suspect that there was more to it than just a simple rescue.

It had all started with a distress beacon that Pidge had picked up. She'd been messing around with the castle's sensors, trying to test their range, when she'd stumbled across a call for help. In hindsight, _someone_ should have recognized that it was just a little too coincidental. Here they were in what was largely an uninhabited sector when they just happened to pick up a transmission from a ship in peril?

It was too perfect, too neat.

The ship, inhabited by a race called the Vyjni, had met with some trouble while traveling through a massive field of space debris.  The debris field, Coran had explained with a grim face, had been the site of a massive battle many years ago. The immense swath of wreckage was what remained of it. It was space graveyard for both the Galra and those who had fought them.

But the Vyjni ship was still scuttled, and there several hundred souls on board. There was no question about giving them aid, despite any misgivings they might have felt.

Somehow Keith wasn't surprised when a Galra force suddenly emerged from a wormhole. He sure as hell couldn't have been the only one questioning just how it was the Galra knew where to find them. The nearest enemy outpost was light years away, so it was just a little too convenient. Still, as a Paladin of Voltron, Keith had a job to do. Even if things were steadily going to shit now that Pidge was down. Their best strategy, it seemed, was out of the question.   

Keith scowled. Around him, the drone ships were still picking fights with the lions. He swooped up to take out several that had drawn too close, then was switching to a private comm channel to hail Shiro.

“I think we’re going to have to call this one,” He said once Shiro had opened the link.

“I think you’re right.” The older pilot agreed. “I have a plan. Go back to the open channel, Keith.”

There was more Keith wanted to say while he had Shiro’s ear. But he did as he was told, coming back to Hunk who was mid-question.

“-- do now?”

Shiro was quick to reply. “Everyone get in formation around Pidge. Hunk, Lance I want you on either side. I’ll take lead. Keith, you guard the rear. We go on my mark and break for the castle. No one left behind. Princess you there?”

“Yes, I’m here. But we haven’t finished getting all the Vyjni to safety yet.”

Fuck. This was going from bad to worse. Already there were far too many Galra for Keith’s liking. If they called for reinforcements, or swarmed the foundered Vyjni ship the situation was going to become an absolute shit-storm. Keith was quick to realize they only had one choice, especially if Voltron was a no go.

“We have to make a stand, Shiro,” Keith pointed out. “Someone needs to get Pidge back to the castle. The rest of us have to head them off until the evacuation is complete.”

Over the comms, there was a flurry of voices. Lance was the loudest.

“Yeah, but do you know how many ships are between here and the castle? It’s too dangerous for just one person and no cover fire. We should all go back.”

“If we all go back, the Vyjni ship is toast, Lance. The Galra will go right toward it! That’s why we drew them away in the first place.” Pidge was quick to put forward.

“Yeah, Pidge is right. Whoever goes has to be fast and the rest of need to stay put. Shiro, what do you think?” Hunk asked.

“I think Keith is right.” Their leader decided. “If we all go back, the rest of the Vyjni are dead. ”

“I agree,” Allura cut in smoothly.

“Then it’s decided. Keith, you go with Pidge, you’re the fastest. Hunk, Lance. The three of us will form up here. Allura, how much longer do you need?”

The princess was quick to reply. “Coran is leading the last of the transports out now. We need as long as you can give us!”

“Right. You heard it, Paladins. Positions. Scramble on my mark.”

In a matter of seconds the lions had rearranged themselves. Keith, knowing his orders whipped Red into position and took a deep breath to center himself. Green was ready to go despite how banged up she was. Keith was grateful that she hadn’t taken even more damage.

They’d have to be quick and without error. There was a vast maw of space between their position and the castle. The length and breadth of it would be littered with space junk and enemy alike.

Keith took another breath and pushed aside the thrum of adrenaline-fueled anxiety. He focused on Pidge’s energy, attuning himself to it. Joined now, Pidge's own unease and determination buzzed along their connection.

“Ready?” Keith asked her. He felt her response as she spoke.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Shiro, sensing it was time, spoke. “Keith. Be quick. No unnecessary risks.” He said. Then, to Pidge: “As soon as you’re on board, help where you can.”

“Sure thing, Shiro,” Pidge replied.

It was quiet for a tick or two then Shiro was coming through on Keith’s private channel. “Be safe, okay? Come back to us as soon as Pidge is at the castle.”

Keith’s chest was suddenly tight, aching beneath his breastbone. Through his connection with Pidge, he felt her vibrate with concern. Keith pushed it aside.

“Yeah, you too.” He told Shiro. He closed the channel.

Over the open link, Shiro addressed the rest of the group. “Everyone ready?”

Keith fingers tightened on Red’s controls. She shivered with anticipation. Keith felt Green and Pidge’s own impatience mirrored back at him.

Shiro gave the order. “Okay, GO!”

Red and Green were off like a shot, rocketing away from their comrades. Above them it was absolute confusion for the space of a breath. Several of the Galra drone ships had peeled off to give chase. Keith, however, was quicker. He barely missed a step in picking them off before he was back at Pidge's flank.

Debris zoomed past at an alarming speed, and while Keith was the quicker, and more agile of the two in flight, Pidge followed easily enough. Their shared awareness had her zipping around obstructions with relative ease.

It wasn’t long before the castle came into view in the distance. What few drones had found it were being expertly cut down by Allura’s unforgiving command of the onboard weapons system. The particle barrier shimmered as a small Galra force zipped around, peppering it with a spray of fire. Seconds later there was a burst of energy from the castle and the drones were gone. Inside the barrier Keith could see the twinkling lights of transport ships speeding their way to safety.

Meanwhile, the Vyjni ship was all but lost. The foundering vessel was slowly sinking into the gravity of a dead planet nearby. It was a dark beast of a wreck that was listing at with its bow tipped up toward the castle. Bursts of crackling energy came from a blackened scar of a mark slashed into its side. Wreckage floated out into space around the devastation. It sparked and shimmered under the blaze of light from the Castle of Lions.

“Pidge, let’s go!” Keith urged, filled with a sudden sense of unease.

The two raced ahead. It wasn’t until they got a little closer that they met with resistance from the Galra drones. A small force of them detached from where they were attacking the castle to come for the two of them.

“Princess, we need cover!” Keith called as he tore away from Pidge to draw their fire.

He was engaged with two when blinding, white light split the darkness. A bolt of energy destroyed the remaining vessels. The crackle of it left Keith’s skin prickling under his armor, but a path had been cut and Keith urged Pidge on.

“Go, we’ll cover!” He said.

The green lion wasted no time. It raced ahead, eating up the remaining distance between it and the safety of the castle. It wasn't long before Pidge was within the confines of the particle barrier. Keith detached both physically and mentally. Then he was springing back in the direction where he had left the others. He joined the comm channel they’d flipped to and came back to Shiro barking out orders.

“Hunk, watch out! Lance, you’re too far, fall back now!”

“I’m on my way back, what’s going on?” Keith cut in, anxious.

“Is Pidge safe?” Shiro demanded in reply, voice tight.

“Yeah, she’s fine. What's--” But Keith didn’t get that far. Shiro cut him off.

“There’s too many. We need to fall back.”

Shit, Keith thought. Heart in his throat, instinct had him slamming on the controls a shooting forward with a burst of speed. Red must have sensed the urgency because she seemed to push herself harder. Quick and dextrous she rocketed through the debris, fighting to reach the others as quickly as possible. Over the comm Shiro was speaking to Allura.

“We’re taking heavy fire, Princess.”

“We’re nearly there. Just a few more ticks. Come back to the castle, I’ll cover.”

Keith focused on the other's, attuning himself to their shared consciousness. Anxiety hummed along the connection. But more so than that, Keith could hear it in the jittery way in which Hunk breathed out over the comm. He could also feel it in the way that Lance’s breath hitched on a spluttered curse. Keith burst out from behind a large chunk of wreckage that looked like the remains of a blackened escape pod.

Whatever questions that had been lingering on the tip of his tongue were answered in an instant. On Keith's view screen, the other lions were racing toward the field of debris. At their tails a massive Galra battle cruiser loomed like a great, purple behemoth. Around it was a twinkling froth of vessels. From drones to the larger fighter-class ships, they all advanced en-masse.

Fear clutched at Keith’s belly and twisted it into a knot. But he only allowed it to keep him for the space of a tick. He could not afford to panic, even if the spike of adrenaline had him shivering where he sat.

“Go!” He shouted to the others.

Keith punched forward, shooting past the black, yellow and blue lion. He shot a few beams of light out into the swarm, cutting them where they flew too close. The great host was still advancing though. Keith turned even as Shiro’s voice shouted out stern and angry over the comm.

“Keith, get out of there now!”

Keith obeyed, but not before spitting out several more rounds of covering fire. Red was quick to catch up, but the drones and the cruiser were not far behind. The debris field loomed ahead and Keith navigated it easily enough. Hunk did yelp loudly when he fumbled the bulk of the yellow lion into a large piece of wreckage though.

“Use your canon, Hunk!” Lance called out.

He too was having difficulty navigating as agilely as Keith in his larger lion. He had resorted to blasting through the debris to cut a path toward the castle. Predictably, Keith cleared the debris field first, Shiro hot on his heels. Lance wasn’t too far behind with Hunk bursting free mere seconds later. They raced for the castle, splitting formation as they reached the particle barrier.

Bounding up the arch of it, Blue raced upward to lay waste to the few drones that had been on the castle. Hunk did the same before he rejoined the others. They formed something of a diamond, hovering between the castle and the on-coming fleet. Blue and yellow took point on either long end while Red and Black took the other two positions. The Galra were in the debris field now, the cruiser clearing the way with its weaponry. They would arrive in a matter of moments.

“Steady, boys. We just need to hold out until the rest of the Vyjni are on board. ” Shiro encouraged gently.

Somehow Shiro’s voice was soothing even amidst the chaos. Keith pulled in a long, steadying breath and pushed it out; centering himself. Red blazed bright in his mind, eager and fierce. They only needed to last a few more minutes. Once the rest of the Vyjni were safe the princess would open a wormhole and they all could jump to safety. On Keith’s view screen, the cruiser was advancing. The drones and the fighter ships alike swarming forward in a great, glittering wave.

“Oh man, oh man,” Hunk breathed out, scared but steady.

“Easy, Paladins,” Shiro urged. His tone belayed nothing but absolute calm.

The wave advanced, the light from its weapons blazing and violent.

“Shiro,” Lance began, voice pitched high.

“Easy,” Shiro said again, firmer now. “On my mark. We buy our time then get the hell out.”

Lance whispered a string of words that might’ve been a prayer. The drones were nearly in range now and Keith reached toward the others with his awareness. Hunk’s fear and Lance’s anxiety melded with his own doubt and for a moment it was chaos. Keith struggled against the crush of it. Almost he let all the selfish, insecure thoughts he held tight to his colorless little heart burst free. But now was not the time to lose focus like that.

Panicking, Keith tried to grope his way clear before he was discovered. But then Shiro was there; patient as he guided the three of them back to more even footing with his own calm fortitude. It bolstered Keith’s own resolve and he was able to steady himself. He breathed out, trying to ease the ache in his chest. Determination and something like pride echoed back from their leader. The whole exchange took mere heartbeats.

They were ready. And not a moment too soon.

The drones were in range now, and the castle’s defenses were now working to full capacity. White energy crackled out like bolts of lightning, slicing through the oncoming wave. As one, the four of them moved, splitting across the swath of velvety blackness with a crack. Black and Yellow danced to one side, while Blue followed after Keith as he split downward with Red. The ships in their path were devoured as the lions began their hunt.

Around Keith it was total anarchy; no time to stop, no time to think. Keith could only exist in that moment, could only react. It was the animal instinct of fight and survive that kept him moving. It was that instinct that kept Keith quick and brutal as he dispatched ship after enemy ship. Red was an extension of his physical form, intelligent, aware and feral as she fought for and with her Pride.

The cruiser was now in range. The electric purple of its weaponry buzzing out to lash at the four lions. Keith whipped Red aside, darting past the detritus of broken machinery and hungry to go in for the kill. Drawn deep into the haze of battle, the Red paladin spurred his Lion on. A ripple of assent through the shared connection told Keith that Blue, Black and Yellow were not far behind. It told him that they were of one mind. They would go in and make their kill as a unit.

Darting ahead, Blue moved toward the Cruiser’s vitals. Ice drew a jagged line up its hull mere seconds before Red’s jaws opened to trace the line with liquid fire. The thick metal exploded open to leave a gaping wound that sparked and crackled. Up and around the large vessel, Keith chased after Lance.

They left a corkscrewed path of devastation in their wake. More than once they passed Black and Yellow as they did the same. But the drones were back, and halfway up the length of the cruiser Lance peeled off to meet them. Hunk was there with Yellow in instant. Keith carried on, leaving the smaller enemy ships to Lance and Shiro. He couldn’t help but think this whole operation would have been much easier with Pidge in play.

But the cruiser was a dying animal now, floundering and falling though still putting up a fight. Explosions littered the length of its listing mass, but the heart of it still beat. Needlessly, Keith pointed it out.

“Shiro!” He called.

“I know,” The black paladin returned.

Hunk and Lance were already moving into place. Acting as a unit, the four of them raced to the bow of the ship where the crystal resided. Black touched down first, slamming into the hull. Then her claws were shredding through the metal as easily as if it were paper. Yellow dropped in to place seconds later to help Black. Wrenching and tearing, they pulled the wound apart amidst the shriek of machinery.

Meanwhile Keith and Lance ran defense. The enemy was becoming more aggressive now that their command vessel was in peril. Keith snarled even as Red’s jaws snapped around a drone ship to crush it. Moments later, Black and Yellow were bouncing away from the torn cruiser.

“Concentrate fire, now!” Shiro directed.

The reaction was immediate. All four lions opened fire, raining destruction down onto the deteriorating ship. It was seconds away from its inevitable end when Pidge’s voice suddenly cut over the comms. She was fearful and her voice was pitched an octave too high.

“Guys! Stop! You’ve gotta get out of there, they did something to the crystal! They like supercharged it or something—I can’t explain right now.  It’s gonna blow you all the hell if you don’t move now!”

Shiro responded with a bellow. “Everyone, move!”

They scattered, scrambling for the castle. But their sudden departure became hindered by a swarm of drone ships. The anxious, insistent pull to get out and get away buzzed through Keith’s skin. He pushed into the throng of enemies with little grace or finesse, ripping them apart as he went. Time was running out.

But the mass of enemy ships was becoming more than just a minor hindrance. For every one they took out it seemed that ten appeared in its place. Growling in frustration, Keith punched at his weaponry and rolled to the side. He crashed through several of the ships and broke away for the space of a few seconds. The others were having the same problem as they struggled to outpace the blast zone.

“Oh my god, I’m going to fucking--” Keith snarled, frustrated. He finally managed to get away long enough to shoot some cover fire in after Hunk.

“Seriously, this is stupid!” Lance agreed.

“Guys, just--” Shiro cut in. Whatever it was he was about to say, though, he never got the chance to finish. Behind them, there was a sudden flare of light. The cruiser had exploded.

Keith supposed he should’ve been happy. They had been trying to take out the ship after all. But whatever had been done to the crystal left it exploding with all the force of a star going supernova. As luck would have it, all four of them were still in the blast zone. 

A jarring sense of urgency clawed at Keith’s guts. He slammed at the controls, headless of the crush of drones closing in around them. Somewhere nearby Yellow and Blue were racing along beside him. Shiro and Black were bringing up the rear.

Time seemed to slow. Even so, in the space of a few short heartbeats, the aftershock of the explosion was on their tails. Proximity alarms blaring, Keith attempted to put on a burst of speed. He’d barely cleared the worst of the blast radius when the report of energy hit.

It demolished the drones and sent Red spinning out of control. Keith was thrashed in his seat. His head clocked against his seat with enough force that it rattled his brain and he shouted out in alarm. Somewhere beyond the chaos of the impact and the blaring of alarms voices were coming through the comm. It took a Keith a moment to sort the jumble of noise once Red had come to a halt.

“--one okay!? Please be okay!”

It was Pidge, voice trembling with fear. Keith loosed a groan and pinched his eyes shut. His head was spinning and his vision had gone all funny.

“’M alive,” He grunted.

“Yeah, me too,” Lance added, sounding worse for wear.

“Oh man, I almost chucked.” Hunk finished and Keith wasn’t surprised.

He felt a little like he was going to be sick too, so he really couldn't blame Hunk in the slightest. He took a steadying breath.

“Shiro, you okay?” Keith asked at length. Their leader had yet to check in.

When nothing but silence met his query, Keith hissed out loudly and made an abrupt about face. Eyes scanning the view-screen he searched for the Black lion. Unease unspooled in Keith's stomach when he spotted her adrift amidst the wreckage. He pushed Red in her direction, heedless of the others.

"Shiro? Shiro.. C'mon. Answer me now," He demanded.

There was nothing but silence as Keith drew closer. The Black lion's eyes were dark as Keith approached. She didn't seem all that damaged, but the particle barrier hissed and spit as it flickered weakly. The whole of it looked like a glowing egg that had been cracked open. Parts of it were even missing.

“Goddamnit, Shiro you better answer,” Keith tried again, scared now.

It was Allura who responded. She was worried. “Paladins-- Keith, is everyone okay?”

“I don’t know!” Keith snapped back.

“Shiro isn’t answering, he might be hurt,” Lance explained.

Allura made some sort of hushed response, but Keith wasn’t listening. His blood was thrumming too loudly in his ears to hear properly. In his chest, his heart felt like it was being crushed. Panting through the pain of it, Keith loosed a low growl. He flipped to a private channel, waiting for the black paladin to answer it.

“Takashi, I swear to God if you’re not okay I’m going to--I’ll-- I’m,” He began, jittery with panic.

The channel finally opened and there was a soft, thready huff of breath, followed by a pained grunt. The ache in Keith’s chest eased almost immediately, and for one stupid moment, Keith thought he might cry. It was a long moment before Shiro spoke.

“Well, that could’ve gone a little better,” He said with a humorless laugh.

Keith’s throat closed around the disbelieving snort he’d been ready to make. It came out something like a sob. “I hate you so much right now,” He said.

There were several ticks of quiet punctuated by Shiro’s heavy breathing, and then:

“I’m sorry,” He apologized. His voice was soft and gentle. “Let’s get back to the castle. I could probably use a rejuvenation pod right about now. We can talk about it after, okay?”

Keith didn’t trust himself to speak. He only huffed an affirmative response and dipped out of the private channel. After a moment of consideration, he went silent all together and turned his comm off. Concern trembled out alone his connection with the others, specifically from Shiro. But it was too much, and Keith eased away to be alone with his own mind. Or at least alone with his lion. It wasn't exactly quiet, but Red at least didn't judge him. Especially in regard to the angry tears that wet his lashes in the wake of the adrenaline crash. 

Almost, Keith wished that the ride back to the castle had been longer. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, double update :D 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are love. Enjoy! <3

The day Keith found out that Shiro had been selected for the Kerberos mission was bittersweet. Shiro hadn’t even been sure that he was going to make it past the initial stage of the process, so it came as a surprise to both of them. Sure, the mission was still a year or two out, but Shiro was still months away from even graduating. Not only that, his competition was comprised of the best pilots from around the world.

So when Keith spotted Shiro racing across the quad one morning, he wasn't sure what to think. Especially when the older cadet practically launched himself at Keith. He was red-faced and grinning from ear to ear as he dragged Keith to a small, private alcove.

“What, what happened?” Keith asked, a little breathless, once they were alone.

Keith wasn’t sure it was possible, but somehow Shiro’s grin grew wider. Luminous and beatific, the older cadet was fairly buzzing with excitement. Pressed as they were in the small space Keith found himself distracted and ill at ease. He couldn't concentrate and found himself shifting in anxious anticipation. When Shiro's hands shot out to grab Keith by the forearms, he startled a bit.

“I got it.” Shiro pronounced in a rush of absolute glee.

Confused, Keith’s brows pinched together. He blinked up at Shiro. “Got what?” He asked, if not a touch stupidly.

Shiro all but bounced where he stood, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. His fingers clenched at Keith’s biceps. “Kerberos!” He exclaimed, hushed and ecstatic. “But you can’t say a word! I only just found out. I wasn’t supposed to say anything yet but I had to tell you first.”

 _Kerberos_.

The smile Keith had been wearing faltered a bit. It wasn’t that Keith wasn’t happy for Shiro. In fact, pride was thrumming inside of him, hot and sharp. Even so, Keith couldn’t deny the irrational jab of loneliness that caught him. Which was silly. Shiro hadn’t gone anywhere yet, he was standing right in front of Keith for fuck's sake.

“Oh,” He breathed at length, feeling at a loss.

Above him, Shiro stilled. Keith glanced up to find that the older boy’s expression had changed. Frowning now, Shiro had glanced aside. The disappointment in his tone was clear as a bell.

“I mean..It’s still a while off. I have to get through graduation and then all the training. It'll be months before everything is ready." 

Keith could’ve kicked himself. Shiro had been working towards an opportunity like this for years now. All his effort and dedication had finally reached a payout and all Keith could do was think of himself. Keith blew out a loud sigh, guilt twisting at his insides. 

Selfish. He was being selfish.

“Sorry. You just.. Took me by surprise a bit,” Keith apologized. “I’m happy for you. Really, I am. I just..”

Keith glanced up, finding that Shiro was regarding him with a look that was warm yet scrutinizing. He looked like he was trying to figure something out. Keith wrinkled his nose up under the attention.

“But..?” Shiro finally asked, tone careful.

Keith snorted, frowning as he glanced away.  He felt exposed and unprotected under Shiro's examining gaze. “But what?” He demanded.

Huffing out a soft, bemused laugh Shiro smiled. “Keith,” He chided gently. “Nothing’s going to change between us. We’ll still be friends when I get back.”

 _Friends_.

The word burned in Keith’s brain making his chest ache. That word both was and wasn’t the problem. Keith swallowed heavily and flicked his gaze up. Shiro was waiting patiently for a response but the warmth and kindness in his eyes made Keith feel guilty.

“Except you’re the only friend I’ve got and you’re going to be gone for fucking ever,” Keith admitted, feeling a little self-conscious.

For a moment Shiro said nothing. Dark brows pinching in consideration, the older boy chewed thoughtfully at his lip. Then, Keith found himself pulled in by Shiro’s sturdy arms. That was surprising in and of itself. Generally speaking, Shiro was careful to respect Keith's personal boundaries.

But for as much as Keith disliked being touched, he didn't mind it so much when it was Shiro. In fact, Keith found himself melting into the solid heat of Shiro's body with a sigh. They stood that way a long moment until eventually, Keith wound his arms around Shiro’s back and returned the embrace. The breath that tickled through his hair sent a riot of squirming shivers straight to Keith’s gut. It was surprisingly nice.

“I won't be gone forever,” Shiro assured, voice soft. “I’ll probably be able to email or something so it's not like you won't hear from me. Technology is good like that.”

Keith huffed out a small laugh at that, face still tucked against the bulk of Shiro’s chest. He’d never been pressed so close to the other boy, and his face flamed at the thrill of it. Shiro went on:

“You’ll be sick of it by the time I get back. I’ll send you photos of everything. I’ll send you space selfies. Spelfies? Is that a thing? Because I’ll do it.”

“Ugh, no. Stop. That’s terrible.” Keith cut in even as he rolled his eyes. But he was smiling again.

When he glanced up, face still flush, he noted Shiro was smiling as well. For a long moment, they stood in silence together; comfortable and still. Eventually Shiro gusted out a soft sigh and drifted away though. He took a step back, putting some space between the two of them. He didn’t quite disconnect, however and his palms slid from Keith’s forearms where they curled about Keith's wrists instead.

“Anyway, It’s still a long way off. They won’t announce anything for a few weeks. I’m not even supposed to be telling you,”

Keith’s reply was immediate. “I won't tell anyone, you know I won't.”

Shiro’s smile grew wider. He glanced aside, almost sheepish. “Yeah, I know. I just wanted you to be the first to know.”

Keith nodded. Then he was extricating himself from Shiro’s touch to give the older boy a playful little shove.

“Now that you’ve told me, you gonna let me go to class?” He teased.

Above him, Shiro blew out a breath in realization. “Shit! Sorry, Keith. You’re not late, are you?”

Keith shook his head. “Not yet,” A pause, and then: “Wanna grab dinner together later?”

“Actually I have to be somewhere until six,” Shiro began. “Why don’t you get something easy from the Mess and meet me in the hanger after?”

Keith raised a brow at that. It wasn't like it was unusual for the two of them to sneak out before curfew. It wasn't like it was unusual for the two of them to overlook curfew all-together. Keith just figured the older boy would have other plans for his weekend.

"Look, you're the only one who knows," Shiro explained with a laugh. "And it's Friday. So I thought we could head out on my bike and celebrate or something. Just the two of us.”

Just the two of them. Also not unusual. Matt generally went home to spend weekends with his family so again, it wasn't out of the ordinary. Even so, Keith felt his ears go hot as he nodded. Shiro beamed in response.

“Great. That’s--Yeah, great!” Shiro said with a laugh. “Six-fifteen in the hanger okay?”

Keith nodded again. In his chest, his heart was a slippery, buoyant thing alight with some airy emotion. He gave Shiro a little push and the older cadet laughed as they wandered back out into the quad. They’d barely taken a few steps when Shiro turned suddenly in Keith’s direction.

“Oh, and Keith? Wear something warm, okay?”

Keith rolled his eyes but chuckled all the same.

“Yes, _dad_.’

 

 

 

 

Six-Fifteen found Keith wandering into the vast, open space that was the Garrison’s hanger. Around the perimeter, various types of transport were organized in neat little rows. Keith made his way past them, searching for Shiro amongst all the machinery. He'd followed the older cadet's instructions, of course. Stopping at his dorm to change in to civvies first, before heading to the mess hall.

Keith wasn't exactly sure what Shiro had planned, but he had made a point of telling Keith to dress warmly. Keith hoped that the addition of a thick, dark hoodie beneath his jacket would be enough. He wasn't overly fond of being cold, and even with it being early spring the desert nights could still get a little chilly. 

Tugging at the straps of his backpack, Keith finally spotted Shiro at the far end of the hanger. The older boy was pacing near his hover bike and fiddling with the cuffs of his coat. Keith called out, clearing the remaining distance between them at a quick clip. Shiro smiled as Keith approached, and Keith noted that he'd changed out of his uniform as well.

Stiff orange and white had been traded for a fitted, dark gray coat made out of thick, soft looking material. Shiro had flipped up the cowled collar and Keith could see that it was lined with a lighter toned shearling. Tabbed buttons cut across the chest at a diagonal, complimenting Shiro’s athletic build. Snug black jeans and black boots finished off the ensemble. It looked good, _Shiro_ looked good.

Really good.

Too good in fact. Especially for a night of kicking around out in the desert. Keith couldn't stop himself from staring. Shiro looked like a goddamned model or something. And Keith, acutely aware of his own ratty jeans with their torn out knees, fidgeted. Across the way, Shiro paused in the middle of pulling on a pair of gloves to quirk a brow at Keith’s silence.

Keith felt his face go flush. He tried to recover by blustering forward to pick at the cuff of Shiro’s expensive looking coat. The shearling was as soft as Keith imagined it would be.

“’S nice.” He complimented in a gruff tone. “How come I’ve never seen it before?”

Surprisingly, Shiro’s face went a bit red. “Oh, err. Yeah. It’s new. My mother was worried I’d be too cold. My old coat was just about falling apart.” He explained.

Keith’s snort of laughter was immediate. It was easier than trying not think about the line of Shiro’s body and the way the fit of his clothing complimented it.

“Mama didn’t want her precious little baby boy being all chilly? Aww, how sweet.” He teased, huffing out a delighted snort when the tips of Shiro’s ears went pink.

Even so, the older boy was smiling despite his embarrassment. He snatched up a helmet and chucked it in Keith’s direction.

“Ha ha, you’re so damned funny,” Shiro pronounced as he pulled his own helmet on.

“I know. I’m fucking _hilarious_ ,” Keith agreed. Then on impulse he reached out to touch the soft, dark fabric of Shiro’s sleeve. “But I do like this. It’s nice.”

“I guess if I disappear in space you can have it since you like it so much,” Huffed Shiro with a sigh.

Keith knew the older boy was teasing, but it didn't stop him from scowling. Or cuffing Shiro hard in the arm. “ _Not_ hilarious, Takashi,” He warned sourly.

Shiro for his part offered up an apologetic smile. Then he was reaching out to ruffle Keith’s hair. “Okay, okay. Not funny, I'm sorry, Keith.” He amended. And then: “You ready to go? It’s going to be dark soon.”

Rolling his eyes, Keith nodded. He pulled on his own helmet and activated the visor as he waited for Shiro to hop up onto the bike. Once the other boy had settled himself, he held out a hand for Keith. Grabbing on, Keith hauled himself up and slotted in behind Shiro.

It wasn't the first time they'd ridden together like this, not by a long-shot. Even so, Keith hesitated before easing closer and slinging his arms about Shiro's middle. His stomach twisted in nervous excitement at being pressed so close to the other boy. Ruthless, Keith quashed the feeling immediately and tried to put it out of mind. He couldn't help but feel it was a losing battle though.

Beneath them, the bike lurched to life with a hum as Shiro pressed the ignition. Keith bent closer, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. Immediately his brain was assaulted by the fact that Shiro smelled _fantastic_. The crisp, new smell of his coat mingled with the mellow notes of Shiro's cologne to create a heady combo.

Keith cursed silently, berating himself for getting worked up over something so stupid. He was feeling more than just a little ridiculous as his heart thumped loudly in his chest. So when they finally cleared the hanger, Keith could only let out a breath of relief. Soon it wouldn’t matter. Soon Keith would be able to blame the erratic drumbeat in his chest and his twisting guts on the rush of adrenaline.

Easing the bike out on to the grounds, Shiro moved toward gate that circled the Garrison compound. Once they were clear of it, Keith shifted in anticipation. He knew what was next and knew Shiro loved this just as much as he did. Keith tightened his arms around the other boy’s middle. It was their signal. Shiro breathed out a soft laugh as he eased the bike forward.

Slow at first, the bike moved into the desert proper. But Shiro was pushing at the controls. Faster and faster and faster.  Their speed built in a steady pull until they were all but sailing across the desert. The Garrison fell away behind them in a spray of sand; they were gone.

Over the rush of the wind, Keith heard Shiro shout out a joyful whoop of a laugh. Keith laughed as well, urging the other cadet to go faster with a nudge of his hand. Shiro obliged, pushing the bike harder. He didn’t appear to have any sort of destination in mind and was more than happy to race the bike out across the sands. Twisting and looping in speeding circles, Keith shouted out his own glee. That Shiro was leaving him at some point in the future seemed distant and far away.

Swooping around in zig-zag loops now, Shiro punched the bike forward. He maneuvered around a rock formation with practiced ease and sped off. Through the desert they zoomed, zipping past the occasional cactus.

Keith loved it.

His heart swelled with each belly flipping twist and drop. And while he was aware that Shiro was showing off just a bit, Keith found he didn't care. In fact, in a way he was almost flattered. Out here in the desert, away from all the rules and regulations, they were free. Just the two of them. Keith was sure that Shiro felt it too.

They were at it for the better part of an hour before Shiro finally leveled the bike off and made for a flat, empty place on the horizon. It wasn't until they arrived that Keith realized that they were on the precipice of a sheer drop. Stopping the bike several yards from the edge of the cliff-face, Shiro hopped down to the ground. He pulled his helmet off with an easy sort of grace, and it when he turned it was to pin Keith with a beatific grin.

“Hungry?” the older boy asked. His face was flush from the exertion of flying, and his grey eyes were alight with joyful merriment.

Keith’s belly twisted with a nervous energy which had nothing to do with the speed or daring with which Shiro had been piloting the bike. He could only nod, dumbstruck as he jumped down to the desert floor. He pulled off his own helmet and together the two of them moved to the edge of the cliff face. Shiro plopped down with a grunt almost immediately. Keith however could only grimace at the dust that puffed up to layer Shiro’s nice clothes in a grimy film.

He turned away, gazing out into the vast emptiness of the valley below. There wasn’t much out there, he noted. Just the barren spread of shifting sand punctuated by the occasional rock. Almost it seemed as though there was some sort of structure in the distance, a house or something maybe. But Keith couldn’t be sure, not from this distance anyhow. He took a breath, then turned back to Shiro.

The older boy was smiling up at him, quiet and patient. Keith tugged off his backpack and eased to the ground where he folded his legs under himself.

“Here,” Keith proclaimed, handing the bag off to Shiro.

Immediately the older cadet was unzipping the bag and inspecting it’s contents. It wasn’t fancy. A couple sandwiches, some chips, a handful of candy bars and two bottles of water. Keith shifted a bit, feeling self-conscious as Shiro pursed his lips thoughtfully. It looked like he was trying to decide if he wanted a sandwich or a candy bar.

“Sorry,” Keith apologized as he made a snatch for one of the candy bars. It was a Kit Kat; Shiro’s favorite. “It’s not that great. We should’ve gone to town or something. I would’ve gotten you something better.”

“Naw, it’s fine,” Shiro began, grabbing at the Kit Kat and replacing it for the Twix in his hand. “Besides, I’m sure once the news hits I’ll be dragged all over the place. I don’t care about all that, I’d rather be here right now.” He finished, pinning Keith with an affectionate, if not significant look.

Keith swallowed hard, fidgeting with the candy in his hands. “You’re so weird,” He declared at length. Then Keith was cramming half the Twix into his mouth.

Across the way, Shiro was fumbling with the wrapper of the Kit Kat and losing the battle. Keith smiled even as he rolled his eyes. Then, before he could think better of it, Keith was leaning forward to push the other half of the Twix into Shiro's mouth.

“Open,” Keith instructed.

Shiro obliged. It was perhaps not-so-accidentally that Keith’s fingertips had brushed against the soft warmth of Shiro’s lips. Unbidden, he wondered if they would taste like chocolate if they were to kiss. Keith glanced up, and found himself pinned in place by grey eyes that were intent and searching. Keith squirmed, going hot under the collar. He drew back, the motion jerky and stilted, though not before snatching the Kit Kat away. Keith tore it open with ease and bit into it, taking a huge chunk out of the middle.

Shiro, pressing the remains of the Twix out of his teeth with his tongue, smiled. He was still watching Keith carefully, almost like there was some puzzle between them to be solved. Like Keith was some unknown quantity. But he laughed when Keith handed back the half-eaten Kit Kat.

“You animal.” Shiro teased, eyeing the chocolate bar in bemusement.

Around the candy jammed into his mouth, Keith smiled, small and maybe even a little shy.

Shiro’s nose crinkled as he breathed out a laugh. Then he was digging into the rest of the food, enjoying the humble offering with gusto. The silence between them was nice, and companionable. It gave Keith a chance to process what he was feeling, and honestly, he was glad for it. The tangle in his head wasn't any less complicated, but it didn't bother him as much he found.

Beyond them, out in the desert, the sun was starting to sink toward the horizon. Slowly, the blues of the daytime sky gave way to an array of golds, pinks, and oranges. At some point the clouds began to take on a dusty, violet hue. It offset the warm tones of the sky to create a brilliant contrast of color and texture that rippled like waves in the ocean. Keith found himself in awe of it. It was gorgeous in a way that left Keith aching and wanting for something he couldn't quite name.

On a whim, Keith glanced in Shiro's direction, slow and secretive. He found that the other boy's gaze was fixed on the sky above; expression open and full of wonder. Keith wasn't prepared to be so taken in, nor was he prepared for the way Shiro's skin glowed in the fading light. Suffused with gold, the halo of light dappling his skin and dark hair made him appear ethereal and otherworldly. He was so beautiful that Keith’s heart kicked in his chest.

When Shiro turned in his direction, mouth quirked in a winning smile, Keith felt himself short-circuit.  There were words, somewhere, stuck in his throat. Words that Keith was desperate to give voice to. But he found himself caught by the way that Shiro was looking at him. Keith had almost manage to push those words out when Shiro reached out to take his hand.

“Keith, you’re going to miss the best part,” The other boy admonished, his voice placid and soft.

Confused, Keith could only stare, uncomprehending.

“The sky, you goon,” Shiro explained with a laugh. He angled his head in the direction of the setting sun.

Oh, the sky. Of course.

Keith turned aside in embarrassment and lifted his gaze toward the heavens. Shiro’s fingers tightened around his own and Keith found himself shifting closer. Above them, the riotous blaze of color was reaching its zenith. Whorls of violet and blue were slowly encroaching on the warm tones of the fading sun, ushering in the coolness of night.  On the horizon, the sun was a streak of fire.

Slowly, slowly, it finally burned away to nothing. But Keith swore he could still feel the heat of it on his face. It left him feeling small for some reason, small and adrift. But the squeeze of Shiro’s fingers anchored him, and kept Keith from feeling like he was going to float off into the atmosphere.

Quiet, trembling in the silence, Keith tipped his head back. Above him was a spray of early, evening starlight winking against a backdrop of deep, lovely blue. He refused to look in Shiro’s direction just yet, afraid of what he might see there. Or what he himself might unknowingly give away. He knew Shiro was watching him. Keith could feel the other boy's eyes on him, warming his skin just as surely as the sun had. He swallowed hard, ignoring the tingling sensation in his chest.

Eventually, Keith felt Shiro’s hand withdraw after one final squeeze. “We should get back soon, you look like you’re starting to get cold.”

Keith _was_ shivering a bit, but it had little to do with the cold. He pinched his eyes shut, wanting to trap all the magnificent color he had just witnessed behind his eyelids. He wanted to keep it forever, burned in his brain like a photograph. And maybe, if Keith never possessed a color of his own, he could borrow some from the sky to paint Shiro in.

“Yeah, I guess,” Keith sighed, finally relenting.

He finally turned toward Shiro who’s face was now shadowed in night-time hues. If Keith were being honest, he preferred the golds and pinks. Shiro looked better bathed in warmth and light. Keith let his gaze linger a moment, then he was hauling himself to his feet.

He took a moment to dust himself off, then Keith shot an arm out to give Shiro a hand up. The older cadet was covered in dust when he stood, but made no move to brush off his nice clothes. Keith frowned, resisting the urge to do it himself. Distracted by what Shiro's mother might say, Keith didn't notice when Shiro shifted closer.

There was heat emanating from the other boy's body, Keith could feel it radiating between them. Unsure of what to say, and feeling anxious, Keith stooped to gather up his empty bag. He looped it over his shoulders, then stepped away to start toward the hover bike. A hand on his wrist gave him pause.

“Keith,” Shiro began.

There was something strange in Shiro's voice. Strange enough that it stopped Keith in his tracks. It also had Keith realizing that he’d been pressing the heel of his palm into his sternum. In fact, Keith was pressing with enough force that it would likely bruise. Not only that, but Shiro was watching him do it.

Keith dropped his hand, feeling oddly shamed. But Shiro was tracking the movement and looked for all the world like he was on the verge of some stunning revelation. Keith drew in a breath, confused by the squirming, jittery sense of anxious excitement in his gut.

“...Yeah?” Keith pressed, curious.

But Shiro said nothing, at least not at first. His expression did change, though, shifting into something sad and fragile. A fraction of a second later Shiro's nose was scrunching up as he glanced aside. A pained, quiet sound gusted from between the older boy's pursed lips and Keith was sure that it had slipped out unbidden. When Shiro looked up again, he was offering Keith a brittle smile.

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Shiro said at length. “I’m just glad you’re here, and that we’re friends. I’m really going to miss you while I’m gone.”

Unexpectedly, the confession left Keith’s eyes stinging. He swallowed around the ticklish lump in his throat. “What about your stupid spelfies?” Keith demanded, refusing to resort to something as stupid as crying in front of Shiro.

But the comment had the desired effect. The older cadet snorted out a sudden, watery laugh. “I thought you said they were dumb?”

“They are dumb,” Keith shot back. “Why does everyone have to smush words together like that? Just say ‘space selfies’ for fuck's sake.”

That had Shiro laughing outright; warm and genuine. Keith rolled his eyes but smiled as well. It felt easier now that that strangeness of the moment had been dispelled. Tension receding, Keith felt himself relax. He moved toward the hover bike, tugging Shiro along behind him.

“I guess it is kind of dumb sounding,” The older boy admitted, allowing himself to be pulled along. “But I’m still going to send you a million of them.”

“Of course you are, you nerd.” Keith shot back, pausing as they neared the bike to let go of Shiro's fingers. The warmth of them was missed almost immediately. “Just don’t expect me to do the same. I hate taking selfies.”

“But you’ll at least send me a few, right?” Shiro pressed, hopeful.

Climbing up onto the bike, Keith chewed his lip thoughtfully. He shrugged as he turned to Shiro. “Maybe. I’m not sure yet. You know I hate that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, I know.” Shiro returned as he swung up onto the bike as well and slid up behind Keith. Warm and languid he curled in around Keith like a cat. He perched his chin on Keith’s shoulder and nudged into his temple. “Helmet, Kogane.” He reminded.

Keith grunted, shrugging away from the nearness of Shiro’s body so that he could put his helmet on. He passed the other one back to Shiro. After a moment they were ready to go, and with little to keep them there any longer, Keith kicked on the ignition. He did spare one last glance in the direction of the horizon, though.

A pale blue corona was riding the border between land and sky. For some reason, it left Keith feeling hopeful. Though for what, he wasn't exactly sure.

Over-head night was deepening. Soon the moon would rise and spill silvery light out across the sand. Keith wasn't thinking about that though. He was recalling the heat that had streaked Shiro's skin in shades of gold. He fixed the colors in his mind, resolute and unwavering.

Then Keith was wheeling the bike out into the sand and away from the cliff.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I've already wrote this once, but A03 messed up right when I was about to save my draft. Anyway.. 
> 
> THANKS FOR BEING AWESOME AND PATIENT. I love you all, and enjoy the angst. 
> 
> also, follow me on tumblr @Inkfishie
> 
> :)

 

 

In the end, Keith didn’t get his chance to speak to Shiro until much later.

 

After docking the lions, Allura had immediately opened a wormhole. With the castle beyond Galra reach for the moment being, they were relatively safe. But that hadn’t been the end of it, not by a long shot. There were still several hundred Vyjni taking refuge a cargo hold that needed assistance. With only four paladins, Coran and the Princess, they really had their work cut out for them.

Keith didn't care about the Vyjni in the slightest, however. As far as he was concerned they could all go to hell.

Almost as soon as he landed, he was scrambling out of Red. Racing to where Black was, he tore off his helmet and chucked it aside. The Galra, the aftermath of the battle-- None of it mattered at all. Keith was halfway to the larger lion when her mouth dipped gracefully and Shiro all but tumbled out.

He was in bad shape. Keith could tell by the way he held himself. A sickly purple bruise flourished out across one of his cheekbones and up into the eye socket. Shiro's lip was also split and there was a smear of red across his chin. The white of his forelock was matted with sweat and blood.

Keith scrambled up the Black Lion's ramp, ducking in close to catch the older paladin just before he stumbled.

“There you are, I wondered what was taking so long,” Shiro said. His tone was light, but he grimaced as he sagged against Keith's body.

“Idiot, you’re hurt,” Keith snapped back. He would’ve scolded the other pilot further too, had it not been for the sudden and timely arrival of the others.

“Oh man, are you okay, Shiro?” Hunk exclaimed as the three of them drew near, rushing to help.

Lance was right behind him, followed by Pidge. Somehow she wormed herself between the two of them and was at Shiro’s other side in an instant. Ducking up under his arm, she propped him up, helping Keith to support their leader’s sagging weight.

“ You’re so lucky you’re not one of those Vyjni. Allura’s so pissed, you should’ve seen her face, Shiro. She’s going to wreck them if she finds out they had anything to do with that attack. ” Pidge whispered, voice low and urgent.

Shiro, surprised by this development, dipped his head in apology. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to worry you. You did well, though, all of you.”

Keith frowned at that. They didn’t have time for pep-talks right now. “Shiro, we need to get you to a pod. _Now_. That can wait, okay?” He said, frustration coloring his tone.

They had barely made it several yards past Black when Allura and Coran came blazing toward the group of them. They shuffled to a halt as the two Altean’s approached. For a moment Keith found himself shrinking under the intensity of Allura’s gaze. She was equal parts relieved and roiling with anger. She glanced between her Paladins, unflinching and regal in bearing as she inspected them. Her gaze turned to Keith and she pinned him in place with the blue-violet of her eyes. 

He balked, jerking to a halt. At his side, Shiro tensed. But Allura’s attention was on the older pilot now. Straightening, Shiro stepped away from both Pidge and Keith as the Princess approached. Shoulders stiff and taut, the hard line of Shiro’s jaw tensed in pain as he pushed himself upright. Here was the Black Paladin submitting himself to the scrutiny of his commanding officer. He took another step away from Keith, rigid and determined.

Keith didn’t like it. Shiro was tired and hurting. The last thing he needed was to a verbal licking over some imagined slight on Allura's part. Before Keith could stop himself he took an impulsive step forward. Shiro, ever able to read him, held out a hand to stay Keith in his tracks.

Ahead of them, Allura’s gaze flicked in Keith’s direction. Her ivory brows twisted in a delicate scowl. Then, she was blowing out an airy sigh and breezing forward to pull Shiro into a careful embrace.

“If you had been seriously hurt, these Vyjni would have had hell to pay,” She said, voice tight with anger.

The tense line of Shiro’s broad shoulders eased a fraction. Huffing out a sigh of his own, he relaxed against the Princess’ body. Forehead to forehead now, Allura’s long fingers moved to cup Shiro’s head at the base of his skull. Almost the touch seemed intimate, and for a moment Keith squirmed in jealous discomfort. He felt as though he ought to turn aside, that this was something that he shouldn’t be watching. Around him, the other paladins seemed to be thinking the same thing. Their faces mirrored the same embarrassed discomfort that Keith was feeling.

“Lucky for them, I guess.” Shiro finally replied. His eyes had slipped shut and his mouth was curled into something of a wry smile.

“But you’re still injured,” Allura observed, still furious.

But even she wasn't immune to Shiro’s inherent calm poise. After several ticks, her fury seemed to drain out of her. Taking a calming breath, Allura straightened. Then she reached out to press her thumbs to the skin just behind either of Shiro’s ears. She lingered that way a moment, then Allura was tipping her chin up to press a chaste kiss to the bloody smear on Shiro’s forehead.

“You’ve done enough for today, Black Paladin. Go take care of yourself. You are dismissed.”

Nodding, Shiro stepped away. A streak of opalescent fuschia bloomed across his skin where Allura’s fingers had touched. The tension went out of him and he sagged visibly. Dismayed, Keith darted forward to catch Shiro before he tumbled. Pidge was there as well, tucking in against the older pilot’s side and looping her arm around his back.

Keith nodded toward the cargo bay doors. Steadily, the pair of them shuffled Shiro forward.

The walk to medical bay seemed to take forever. Shiro’s gait was slow and steady, but he was still in significant pain. Sweat trickled down his bloodied brow, and the set of his mouth was grim and tight. The pale flush of Allura's color was gone now, but Keith couldn't put it out of his mind. It left his stomach churning with jealous unease that he knew had no place in this moment. Shiro needed Keith's help, not his selfishness.

Finally, finally, they came to the large room that served as the castle ship's well-appointed hospital. Once inside, Pidge all but launched herself away to prepare a pod for Shiro. Keith lugged the older pilot to an empty exam bed and eased him down onto it with a grunt.

“Pidge, hurry up!” Keith snapped with more heat than he intended.

From where Shiro was seated, Keith heard a curt disapproving sound. He ignored it, and the little twist of guilt that squiggled inside his gut. Pidge knew he didn’t mean it, Keith would apologize to her later.

“Go help the others,” Shiro said finally. He was quiet enough so that Pidge wouldn't hear from across the room.

“Not yet. You’re getting into that pod first.” Keith returned, adamant.

Shiro’s glare was immediate, flashing with something like impatience. His tone was clipped and angry. “Keith,” He warned.

But Pidge had returned, anxious as she glanced between the two of them. She blew out a quiet breath, sensing the tension between them. “The pod is ready,” She announced. She shifted on her feet, glancing in Shiro’s direction. “It shouldn’t take long--Should I go back?”

It was clear to Keith she wanted to stay. But for as selfish as he wanted to be just then, he realized that Pidge was just as worried as he was. Lance and Hunk probably were too. Keith gnawed at his lip in indecision, struggling to find the right answer. Shiro decided for him.

“I’ll be fine now, Katie, you go on. There’s going to be a lot to do and we’ll need all hands on deck.”

That seemed to settle it, though Pidge still waffled a moment before nodding. She would follow Shiro’s orders, even if she didn’t want to. Turning to head out then, she paused to pat Keith on the arm. He glanced down at her and she offered up a reassuring smile. Keith could almost feel the pulse of her concern despite the fact that they were no longer linked through the lions. He gave her a little nod, then Pidge was off.

Shiro was silent as the doors to the medical bay whooshed open. Then, they were alone.

It seemed to break some of the tension at any rate, but a scowl had found Keith’s face again. He stood there a moment to gather himself. Then Keith was pushing into Shiro's space to attack the fastenings on the other paladin’s armor.

For a second it seemed like Shiro might shrug away. But then the other paladin's shoulder's were hunching in defeat and he moved to assist Keith. The motion had Shiro tensing in pain, though, and he hissed out a curse.

"Let me do it," Keith said, tone impatient. Reaching up, he snatched carefully at Shiro's fingers to ease them aside.

The mechanized digits tightened around Keith's fingers. The whirring gears were loud in the stillness of the otherwise quiet room. Stiff and unrelenting, Shiro held Keith's hand captive. Keith shot the older pilot a look. Shiro was glowering up at him, expression hard. Finally, the tenuous hold Keith had on his anger broke.

“Stop being so fucking stubborn!” Keith snapped as he attempted to wrench his hand away.

Shiro held firm though and Keith blew out an explosive string of curses. Caught in some sort of childish pissing contest, Keith sure as hell wasn't about to back down. Anyone who thought Shiro was always the even-keeled master of his emotions, was an idiot. He could be just as bull-headed and obstinate as Keith when he wanted to be. In fact, he was worse than Keith when properly motivated. It drove Keith up the fucking wall, especially when he was only trying to fucking help.

“You’re being a complete asshole, Shirogane,” Keith declared.

Dark eyes flashed in his direction, cold and hard. Keith wasn’t cowed in the slightest and glowered right back. Keith tightened his own grip on Shiro's arm and twisted the limb at the wrist. The machinery made an alarming buzz of sound but held fast. It wouldn't hurt, but Keith knew Shiro could feel it.

For several more tense moments, the stand-off persisted. Then, having seemingly mastered himself, Shiro turned aside to scowl at the wall. Keith wrenched away from the older pilot’s grip and wasted no time in returning to the task of the armor.

Outrage was still buzzing beneath Keith’s skin, though, and he wasn't as careful as he could have been. It was only when Shiro twitched in pain that Keith paused, took a breath and forced himself to slow down.

“You can be such a bastard sometimes,” Keith said after a long silence. There was no response, so he went on. “I know you’re hurt, Takashi, but I’m just trying to help. Why can’t you just let someone help you once and a fucking while? You’re not invincible.”

Shiro, for his part, continued to brood in silence. The taut line of his jaw did jump, though, even if he was staring resolutely off and away from Keith. It was just as well. Keith rolled his eyes as he slid Shiro out of his chest-plate. He set it aside, then was moving to the pauldrons and guard braces. By the time Keith had finished, he was feeling much calmer. Shiro was another matter entirely.

The rigid line of his body was stiff and unforgiving. In his lap, he had his hands clenched in tight fists. His breathing was steady and metered in a way that suggested it was forced. When Keith glanced up from his work, he noted that Shiro had his eyes pinched shut.

The realization hit Keith solidly in the chest. He stilled, wary and on alert.

“..Takashi.” He said, soft and careful.

Shiro didn’t exactly respond, but his nostril flared as he pulled in a shallow breath.

Idiot. Keith was an idiot. This wasn’t about Shiro being in pain or whatever it was that Keith had thought this was about. This was a stress response. This was about Shiro trying to maintain control over himself and his rising panic.

Viciously, Keith wished he could go back and demolish the entire Galra fleet all over again. He'd burn those fuckers right out of the sky for what they'd done. He'd tear them all apart and make them pay and-- Keith took a breath.

Shiro didn't need that right now.

Reaching out, Keith set his palm to the solid curve of the other pilot's left bicep. The muscle tensed under his touch, but Keith plowed on doggedly. He was careful as he soothed his palm up over Shiro’s shoulder. Keith repeated the action until finally something of the tension went out of the older man’s body. After another long moment, Keith decided it was safe enough to speak.

“Do you want to go up to the rejuvenation room?” He asked, mindful in his framing of the question. “It looks a little less like an alien lab up there.”

Shiro’s snort was bitter. “Right now it doesn’t matter either way. The damage is already done.” He announced.

An aching hurt thumped under Keith’s sternum. He ignored it as he frowned in contemplation. He wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say. Sure, he could tell Shiro that he was okay. He could try and assure the other man that he was safe now. But Keith was sure that the last thing Shiro wanted was empty platitudes. He shuffled where he stood, uncertain.

“Do you....Want to talk about it?” Keith finally asked, hesitant. He knew it was the wrong thing to say almost immediately. Shiro’s response was unforgiving in its sharpness.

“Do I _look_ like I want to talk about it?” The older man all but growled.

Keith stilled. He wasn’t angry per-say, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he felt stung. He took a step back in an attempt to give the other man some space. Shiro had other ideas it seemed. Grunting out a string of quiet words in his mother language, Shiro scrubbed at his face. Then he was reaching out to grab Keith by the fingers.

“Keith, I’m sorry. I’m not upset with you. You’re right, I’m being an ass.” He said.

Keith stiffened at the touch and rooted his feet to the floor. It would’ve been easy to turn away, to put some distance between the two of them. For a moment Keith contemplated it. Somehow, it seemed the wrong thing to do despite Shiro’s volatile state. Instead, Keith twisted their fingers together and gave Shiro’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You don’t have to explain, it’s fine. I get it,” He said. When Shiro didn’t respond immediately Keith frowned, then added: “I could.. stay for a bit? I mean it won't matter once you’re in the pod but...I mean-- If-- You wouldn’t be alone anyway, so I could stay for a bit. If you wanted.”

Shiro’s brows crinkled in consideration at that. For some reason, it left Keith feeling a little foolish and far too exposed. The ache in his chest was a steady thing now, and he squirmed against the familiar thumping burn of it. Then Shiro breathed out a soft, pained sound. It was horrible and Keith’s heart, in his chest clenched vice-like and ruthless.

“I hate feeling this way,” Shiro admitted, small and broken.

Unbidden Keith made a startled noise of his own. Before he could think it through, he pushed closer. Then he was curling himself protectively around Shiro's slouched body. For a moment, the other pilot went rigid. Keith felt the startled puff of warm air tickle the underside of his throat. Gradually, Shiro eased and his arms twisted around Keith's middle and urged him closer.

Keith went willingly of course. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this close to Shiro. It felt so good, and selfishly Keith held on. Even when the frantic rhythm of Shiro’s breathing had finally evened out, Keith refused to let go. It was Shiro who finally eased away, putting some modicum of space between the two of them.

“Better?” Keith asked after a measure of quiet.

Shiro, who had been looking aside, glanced up. His eyes were soft and tired; expression sad and searching. Something in Keith’s gut clenched. Without thought, his fingers darted up to brush aside the limp fall of Shiro’s sweat damp hair. There was a minute tremor, and Keith wasn’t sure if it had originated from himself or Shiro. He swayed closer, caught up by the sudden urge to smooth his lips across the troubled crease of the other man's brow.

 “I should... The pod,” Shiro said finally, his voice rough.

“Yeah,” Keith grunted in response.

“And you...You should get back to the others. There’s too much to do.” Shiro went on.

“Yeah, _okay_ ,” It was yet another grunt on Keith’s part.

But he couldn’t quite find it in himself to exit the trajectory of Shiro’s orbit just yet. Lingering and unsure of himself, Keith allowed his fingers to drift along the curve of Shiro's jaw. He brushed the spot where Allura’s color had painted Shiro’s skin and pressed the pad of his thumb there. Shiro stiffened then gave to a tremulous little shiver.

“Keith,” The other man chided gently.

Keith’s chest tightened as the residual ache there reasserted itself. Relenting, he took a step back. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”

Whatever it was that was between them was secondary to their duties as paladins. Though if Keith were being honest, the Vyjni could go get fucked. He didn’t tell that to Shiro though, he knew how the Black Paladin would react.

“I’ll try and get back for when you wake up,” Keith told him instead. He watched as Shiro glanced up to regard Keith silent and assessing. Eventually, the older pilot nodded.

Keith still didn’t want to leave, though. He stalled a moment longer by reaching out to set a hand to Shiro’s shoulder. Whether it was to reassure himself or the other man, Keith wasn’t sure. Finally, he turned on his heel and strode out of the medical bay. Beneath his chest plate, Keith’s skin felt like it was on fire.

 

Keith ignored it.

 

 

***

 

 

 

The thing about loving someone was that the feeling wasn’t a finite thing. It was vast and endless and forever evolving. It didn’t stop when other, trickier emotions came into play. Once it was there, it had a nasty habit of turning everything upside down. Then it stuck around just for the hell of it, just to watch the world burn. Especially to watch the world burn. It had no regard for anyone or anything. Or even time for that matter.

Love was even there at four in the goddamned morning.

Four in the morning, when all Keith wanted to do was sleep, and his computer was trilling with an incoming call. Because apparently time zones were not a _thing_ in deep space.

Shiro was lucky. Damned, lucky in fact. Had it not been for all the endless love bullshit that was completely fucking Keith over, he might have throttled Shiro. Even if he was light years away. Keith would fly to Kerberos himself if he had to. Cursing, Keith pushed himself upright. Then he was flopping gracelessly out of bed.

The light on the laptop display was damned near blinding in the darkness of Keith's dorm room. It left him squinting and unable to see as he stumbled and stubbed his toe on a pile of books trying to get to the desk. Finally sliding into the chair, Keith all but smashed the keyboard to accept the call.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” He snapped when the feed finally connected.

Shiro, a wide-eyed picture of innocence, stared somewhat stupidly. “Uhhh....”

Keith scowled, still squinting as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the laptop. On the feed, Shiro was blinking rather owlishly. But despite the sheepish hunch of his shoulders, he was smiling. In fact he looked like he was about two seconds away from bursting out into fits of laughter. This was not funny in the slightest. How dare Shiro laugh! Keith's brows wrinkled further. He flicked his glance in the direction of his own small image in the corner of the screen to find that he looked absolutely _ridiculous_.

His hair was all stuck up in a fluffy, tangled mess, and his eyes were all red and squinty. Not to mention the crease marks pressed into his skin. Or the way his eyebrows looked after having his face mashed into a pillow for several long hours.

“Fucking mother of fucks,” Keith exploded. Then he was shooting upright to hobble across the room. Through the computer's speakers, he could hear Shiro laughing. Frowning, Keith attempted to do something about the state of his hair. When it wouldn't lay flat he growled.

“Shut it, Shirogane!” He snapped, giving up on his hair and pulling a hoodie on instead.

As soon as it was on, and the top flipped up to cover his head, Keith hopped back over to his chair and flopped down. On the screen Shiro was smiling, soft and indulgent. Keith tried to hold his glower, but it only lasted a moment or two before he found himself smiling as well.

“Ass,” He said.

Shiro grinned. “Okay now?”

“Apart from it being 4 AM on a Monday morning, I’m peachy fucking keen,” Keith returned a bit snappish.

But Shiro didn’t seem apologetic in the slightest. Though he did offer Keith a conciliatory shrug. “At least you won't be late for class?” He observed.

Keith eyed him, expression flat. “Yeah. Right. As soon as we’re done here, I’m going back to bed.”

“Aww, c’mon. Don’t be like that, Keith. I just wanted to talk to my bestest friend in the whole wide world.”

“You’re not even _on_ this world, Shiro,” Keith pointed out. On the feed, Shiro looked so completely put out that for a moment Keith almost apologized. But then the older boy laughed, and Keith rolling his eyes, laughed as well.

“See? Still an ass,” Keith said, smiling now. “Now, what do you want for real?”

Grinning still, Shiro bent forward to rest his chin on his upturned palm. Like Keith, he was seated at some sort of desk or table. In the soft lighting, Keith could tell the older boy was in one of the common areas of the ship he was on. Keith had become rather familiar with the anatomy of the ship Shiro was piloting, as a matter of fact. In the weeks since the older boy had left, he'd sent dozens of photos and quick video clips. Keith had an entire folder of them saved on his desktop. He expected he’d have dozens more by the time Shiro got back. That wouldn’t be for a while yet, though. He’d only just landed on Kerberos a week ago.

“Just to talk to you,” Shiro pronounced simply, interrupting Keith from his thoughts. 

Something warm and sweet unfurled inside of him. Glancing aside from the feed, Keith wrinkled his nose in embarrassment. “Dork,” He replied. On screen, Shiro offered a disarming grin and shrugged. Keith grunted and shifted in his seat. “I’m still mad at you. Don’t think you’re getting off the hook that easy. I hate getting up early.”

“Yeah, I know. But this was the only time I could find to avoid Matt butting in. You know what he’s like.” Shiro explained.

Keith made a soft noise of acknowledgment at that. Matt had made a habit of interrupting their calls whenever he could. It was never for long, but sometimes it irritated Keith. He only had a limited time to speak to Shiro, and he hated wasting it.

“He must be asleep if you’re calling me now,” Keith observed.

On the screen, Shiro nodded. “Yeah. He went to bed a while ago. So you get to have my undivided attention.”

“Lucky me. But maybe next time I can come with you. That way we can avoid all this calling at 4 AM bullshit,” Keith said in a rush.

The traitorous little shiver of anxiety that caught him was unexpected. Keith really hadn't meant to sound so...Needy. But he had, at least to his own ears. Wrinkling up his nose, Keith looked aside. He wasn't sure he wanted to see whatever expression it was that Shiro was wearing just then.

“I’d love that,” The older boy said. Surreptitiously, Keith peeked at the computer screen. Shiro's expression was warm and kind for all the seriousness of his tone. “You know you’re the only one I want to fly with, Keith. Next time, it’s going to be the both of us. I promise.”

Keith was glad that it was dark in his room. He was also thankful that the light of the laptop screen threw his face into shades of washed-out blue. He was hot all over, and Keith was sure that the flush on his cheeks left his skin blazing damned near scarlet. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, flicking his gaze up to the feed on the screen. Shiro was watching him, intent and smiling.

“Yeah, well I have to graduate first. And you’ll have jobs lined up for years when you get back. It might be a while.” Keith mumbled.

“Soon then,” Shiro amended. “Soon it’ll just be you and me and the stars. We’ll map them out together.”

Almost, Keith could picture it. Almost he could allow himself to hope that it would be true. He pressed the flat of his palm absently into his chest and gave Shiro a little nod.

“Yeah, okay,” Keith agreed with a small smile. “That sounds great.”

 

After that, the pair of them lapsed into quiet conversation. They talked about Keith’s classes, and what Shiro would be up to with the Holts later that day. Shiro told him what the sky looked like that far out in space, and how it was strange to see more than one moon in the heavens. Keith recounted getting into a heated argument with a cargo pilot and Shiro rolled his eyes at that.

Before Keith realized it, nearly an hour had passed. They probably would’ve talked longer had Shiro not been discovered my Matt.

“Oh, there you are, Shiro. I wanted to show you something and you weren’t in your room. I figured you must be around some--"  The brunette began. Then upon spotting Keith on the computer screen pushed closer to wave. “Oh hey, Keith. What’s up?”

Stifling a sleepy yawn, Keith shrugged. “Nothing really.” It was true enough.

On the feed, Matt’s lips curled into its habitual little smirk and he nudged at Shiro with an elbow. “Loverboy didn’t keep you up all night, did he?”

The question had Shiro spluttering a bit as he shoved Matt aside. “Matt! You--Would you let me finish? Christ, I hate you sometimes.”

“No you do~oon’t~” Came a sing-song response from somewhere off screen.

Keith, used to Matt’s teasing by now, shrugged. “I guess you have to go now, huh?” He asked, unable to keep himself from feeling just a little annoyed at the prospect.

On the screen, Shiro huffed out a sigh and gave a nod. “Yeah, I really should. I need to get some sleep.”

“That’s right~! We have a big day of collecting ice samples tomorrow and someone needs his beauty sle~eep!” Matt called out.

Growling in frustration, Shiro angled Keith with an apologetic smile. “Hang on a sec,” He said, then he was standing and bolting off camera. Somewhere off to the side, Keith could hear a hushed conversation. It was followed by a sharp bark of laughter from Matt. When Shiro jumped back into frame his nose was wrinkled up and he was somewhat red-faced.

“Sorry. I’m back now. Matt said to tell you he says good-night.”

“Oh, he left?” Keith asked. He was curious about the conversation the two had engaged in but unwilling to waste time asking about.

“Yeah,” Replied Shiro. Then, a bit more quietly he added: “But I really should go soon. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I have class in a few hours anyway, and you should get some sleep.” Keith said, steeling himself against the inevitable.

Already he was starting to feel a little adrift at the thought of having to muddle through another day on his own. Which was stupid, because he'd managed just fine on his own for fucking years. Shiro wasn't even his soulmate for fuck's sake. 

But for someone who wasn't Keith's soulmate, Shiro was particularly adept at reading Keith. Peering into the camera, the older boy shifted closer. He was watching Keith carefully, a thoughtful frown twisting the bow of his lips.

“Hey, how about I call you again later?” He suggested.

The tightness in Keith’s lungs loosened a bit. He offered Shiro a tepid smile “Yeah, okay. Just not at an ungodly hour if you can help it.”

Chuckling, Shiro shook his head in a nod. “I’ll do my best, but I did kind of like your bed-head. It was pretty cute,” Shiro teased.

Face going hot, Keith frowned a bit. Meanwhile, his hands had reached up to smooth at the thick jersey safely covering the mess that was his hair.

“Don’t be an ass or I won't pick up,” Keith warned.

On the feed, Shiro released another sniggering laugh. His grin was bright and toothy. Before Keith could think better of it, he shot out a hand to his keyboard and snapped a screen shot. The click of the shutter effect was loud enough that Shiro caught it. Stilling, the other boy flicked his eyes up into the camera lens. For a moment he was quiet and still. The smile on his face eased away, replaced by a look that was far too serious and appraising.

“Keith,” He began, only to be interrupted by a shout from down the corridor. Apparently, Matt was still loitering about to ensure Shiro got to bed soon. Keith watched as he sighed. “I should go. Sorry. I’ll talk to you tonight, okay?”

Nodding, Keith tried to school the look of disappointment on his face into something less forbidding. He could feel his mouth tugging downward into a scowl. He didn’t want Shiro feeling guilty over needing to take care of himself.

“It’s fine. Go, get some sleep. You can tell me all about your ice samples later.” Keith urged, despite his reluctance to end the call.

Shiro appeared to be of the same mind because for a long moment they sat in resigned silence. Finally, Keith moved the mouse toward the end call button.

“Okay, I’m going now,” He told Shiro without enthusiasm. Before Keith could hit end call, though, Shiro was speaking again.

“Keith, wait,”

Keith glanced up to find Shiro’s eyes flicking between the camera and the feed itself. He was worrying his lower lip between his teeth as if debating something. Finally, he went on.

“I really miss you. This mission is great and all, and I’m glad I got chosen, but I wish you were here too.”

Keith blew out a breath and felt himself deflate in his chair. The ache beneath his sternum throbbed and was uncomfortable. Keith pressed at the spot hard. On the laptop screen, Shiro’s face was raw and open, his mouth pursed in a frown. Shifting forward suddenly, Keith shot out his free hand and pressed it to the laptop screen.

“..I miss you too, Takashi,” He said, voice tremulous and strange to his own ears.

On the feed, Shiro smiled, but it was sad and small. He did reach out a hand, though, mirroring Keith’s posture. Almost, Keith could pretend that Shiro was just on the other side. That they were separated by nothing more than a pane of glass. And for a moment, the illusion held. Eventually, though, Shiro made a quiet, decisive sound and drew back. His posture was stiff and resolute.

“I really have to go now, I’ll talk to you later tonight, okay?”

Keith nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. Sighing, Shiro gave a little wave.

“Bye, Keith.”

“Bye, Takashi.”

 

The call ended.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back. Sorry for the wait, guys. Life is a thing that happens. :) 
> 
> Enjoy all the angst. Hope this chapter starts to clear up some of the mystery! As always you can find me on tumblr @Inkfishie

 

 

“So, like, what’s up with you and Shiro?” Pidge asked, looking up from her laptop.

It was the first time the younger paladin had said anything in a while. Keith, who was elbow-deep in the Black Lion's mechanics glanced in her direction.

They were supposed to be working on repairs, not wasting time. All the lions had sustained quite a lot of damage in the fallout of battle to save the Vyjni. And with the ever-present Galra threat, they couldn't afford to be caught unawares. Not with this many refugees under their care, not when resources were already spread so thin.

But Keith supposed he should have expected it. Pidge had been far too attentive to him in the hours and days following his little squabble with Shiro in the med bay. To be honest, Keith was surprised that it had taken this long for her to say something.

Then again..

Between dealing with the Vyjni and scrambling to fix the damaged lions, there hadn't been a lot of time. Sighing, Keith wiped his greasy hands on the sturdy Altean coveralls he was wearing. Then he was setting his tools aside and hopping up out of the cavity he'd been in to sit atop Black's hull.

Now was as good a time as any for a break. They'd been at it for hours trying to get Black's particle barrier to behave. Pidge had localized the malfunction to something mechanical, and now Keith was struggling to correct it. And while the Lion had been cooperative, Keith got the impression it was tired of being poked and prodded. It reminded Keith of Shiro, and how testy he got when he wanted to be left alone. Thankfully, Black wasn’t nearly as stubborn as their illustrious leader.

"There's nothing up. Everything's fine. ” Keith pronounced, hedging. He scrubbed at his chin and scowled when he realized he'd smudged it with grease.

It was an attempt at redirection and Pidge didn't buy it for an instant. The look she was giving him was far too cutting and calculating. But when Pidge didn't say anything, Keith huffed out a grunt and snatched up his tools. Then he slid back down into the cavity where he was working.

Getting back to business, Keith wriggled his fingers past some of Black’s circuitry. The part he'd been working on was on the other side of the tangle of shimmering wires. Seconds later a sharp zap had Keith yelping in alarm. He dropped the Altean tool he'd been holding and yanked his fingers free.

“I thought you turned everything off!” He accused, shooting a hard look in Pidge's direction.

The younger pilot's face was a mask of bland innocence. Her fingers hovered near the mouse-pad on her computer.

“Seriously!?” Keith snapped.

Pidge shrugged. “You guys have been weird lately. It’s kind of throwing off the vibe.”

“We haven’t been _anything_ lately,” Keith shot back. “We’ve all been busy. I’ve been down here with you and he’s been off playing diplomat with Allura.”

The tips of Keith's fingers were buzzing with electricity. He rubbed them against his coveralls vigorously. The feeling somewhat alarmed Keith, but more than that it was distracting. He scowled. Pidge was right of course. It wasn't fair to allow this thing between him and Shiro impact the rest of the group. They were at war. None of them had the luxury of being selfish. Even now, there was far too much to be done. With hundreds of Vyjni to tend to and only seven of them, they had all had their work cut out for them.

Thankfully, the castle was now parked on the planet that the Vyjni refugees had been fleeing to. That meant a little less extra work for the Paladins, except for Shiro of course. The Princess required him for the negotiations with Vyjni leaders. As the Black Paladin, it was his duty.

Keith didn't envy Shiro in the slightest when it came to that. Hashing out a peace treaty with the Vyjni was the last thing Keith wanted to be stuck doing. But that Keith hadn't gotten the chance to speak to the older paladin in days was...Frustrating. Keith couldn't help the discontent that was stewing in the pit of his stomach. Nor could he stop the irrational spike of jealousy whenever he spotted Shiro and the Princess together. It made Keith testy and irritable... To say nothing of the tangled mess regarding the Colors. That was another issue entirely. But Keith’s discontent vibrated under his skin as surely as the shock that Pidge had given his fingers.

“You guys were being weird before all this.” Pidge pointed out finally, drawing Keith from his sour thoughts.

Sighing, Keith heaved himself back out of the opening in Black’s hull and scooted closer to Pidge. Legs tucked and folded, he sat cross-legged and wiped at the smear of grease on his chin with the hem of his shirt. There was no way he’d be able to keep Pidge off his case, not now that she had decided to pursue this.

“Okay, fine. You’re right,” Keith admitted. “But it's kind of personal.” Beside him, Pidge remained silent. But she did lift one of her brows in a wry arch. Somehow Keith got the impression that his answer wasn’t good enough. Making a soft, annoyed sound, Keith slumped forward. “Look, it’s not anything to do with the team or anything like that. It’s just old stuff. It’s fine.”

“Rii~ight, okay. Old ‘ _stuff’_ you say.” Pidge returned. She leaned closer, her eyes sharp and piercing.

Grunting, Keith turned away to stare off in the opposite direction. He could feel himself getting agitated. But he didn’t want to be angry at Pidge. She, in her own way, was only trying to help. Her approach was just a bit...direct. Chewing on his lip, Keith frowned. Beside him he heard the sound of Pidge setting aside her laptop, then she shuffled closer. A tick or two passed. Pidge’s arm wormed its way around his, then Pidge was dropping her head against Keith’s shoulder.  

“Look, whatever it is I’m sure if you talk to Shiro it’ll sort itself out.” She said.

The sudden shiver of anxiety had Keith trying to twist away from the younger Paladin. But she held fast and feeling defeated Keith relaxed against the body beside him. “..It won’t though.” He replied at length, voice quiet. “It’ll only make it worse. What if I ruin everything?”

Undeterred, Pidge went on. If she was surprised that Keith had actually opened up she gave no indication. “I don’t think you’re giving Shiro enough credit," She began. "Out of everyone, he's closest to you. He’ll listen to you. I don’t think he’d let anything ruin your relationship.”

Keith wasn’t so sure. Pidge was only working with half the information, and Keith wasn’t ready to give her the rest. “Maybe..” He returned, hesitant. Beside him, Pidge shifted. She was watching him with raised brows.

“How do you know if you don’t try? You’ve at least tried, right?”  Keith blinked and turned to peer down at her. His silence was answer enough. Pidge leveled him with a look that was one of complete frustration. “Quiznakking hell,” She began with a roll of her eyes. “Boys are so _dumb_. Really, Keith? How can you not have at least _tried_ to talk to him about it? You are a complete idiot."

Keith bristled, angry now. “I’m not an idiot!” He shot back, only to have Pidge clap her palm against his forehead. Likely in an attempt to knock some sense into him.

“Yes. Yes, you are you big dummy.” Pidge replied. “But it’s okay. So is Shiro. I suddenly see why Matt was always complaining about his oblivious, idiot friend.”

Clucking in annoyance, Keith rubbed at his forehead. Pidge hadn't really hurt him, but the action had knocked some of the wind out of his sails. He supposed that Pidge did have a point, though. From an outsider’s perspective, it did seem like the best solution to the problem. In the end it just wasn't that simple, was it? Keith knew it wasn't that simple. Still, something small and bright and somewhat like hope unfurled in his heart. What if it _was_ that easy?

Not for the first time, Keith decided he really _was_ an idiot.

He turned toward Pidge to find that she had gone pensive and quiet. Her expression was somber and somewhat sad. For a second she looked as young as she actually was. Sometimes Keith forgot that Pidge was just a kid. She must’ve been thinking of her brother, he realized. Keith swayed closer, nudging her shoulder.

“Matt always used to tease the hell out of Shiro,” He told her. “Honestly, I didn't really like him at first. But after a while, I didn’t mind so much. He kind of grew on me. Sometimes I used to wonder why Shiro was even friends with him.”

Honey-brown eyes swung up in Keith’s direction and a slow smile spread across Pidge’s face. “Yeah, that sounds like Matt. The jerk.” She replied. Keith grinned as well.

“If he were here I bet he’d be razzing the shit out of all of us. It’ll be fun to see him and Lance together.” Keith pointed out, which had Pidge laughing even as she shoved playfully into Keith's side.

“Ha, I bet he’ll love Lance. Matt'll destroy him and it'll be epic. Lance makes it so easy.” She said with a cackle.

Keith snorted in amusement. Lance was far too easy a target for the brand of sarcasm that was unique to the Holt clan. Pidge was a force to be reckoned with, but Matt was downright _savage_. Just imagining it was enough to send Keith into fits of laughter.

It was a long moment before the pair of them were able to calm themselves. When their amusement finally petered off they fell into a comfortable silence. It was the first time Keith had felt anything resembling contentment for days. He pushed closer, enjoying Pidge's proximity. Suddenly, it seemed odd that their lives had run parallel for so long and hadn't touched until that fateful night in the Arizona desert.

For a moment Keith wondered what it would’ve been like to be lost in that storm with Pidge; what it would have meant to him to have a sister-in-arms rather than having to face it alone. He wasn't sure that the Keith he had been at that time would've accepted a compatriot, though.

There was little point in thinking about it now. The past was the past, and the only direction any of them could go was forward. Keith just hoped that Pidge didn't feel that she had to struggle alone. She might not have found her brother or her father, but she still had a family that loved her and would fight for her until the end.

Disentangling himself, Keith looped an arm over Pidge's shoulder. Then he tugged her close and bent to drop a kiss into her tawny hair.  "We should get back to work soon." He pointed out.

“You should talk to Shiro,” Pidge replied. “He’ll listen, and you can sort it all out. My dad always used to say a problem only looks big when you’re too close to it. If you take a step back it's usually not so bad as it seems."

“That sounds like something Shiro would say,” Keith returned.

Beside him, Pidge laughed. “Well, if he does say it, he totally stole it from Dad.”

Keith suspected that Shiro said a lot of things he’d purloined from Commander Holt. Despite being a natural leader, Shiro wasn’t always as unflappable as he liked everyone to believe. Pidge had seen firsthand that Shiro’s temper could be just as volatile as Keith’s when given the right fuel.

“I guess I should try and talk to him, then, huh?” Keith asked finally.

Shirking away from Keith's arm, Pidge angled an expectant look in his direction. For a second, she was Matt's double wearing his knowing smirk. She jabbed Keith in the ribs.

“You better!” She warned cheerfully. Then she was scooting away to gather up her laptop. “Now, let’s get Black fixed so we can eat sometime this millennia."

Keith smiled. Heat tingled along his side where Pidge had been pressed, comforting and warm. The feeling reminded him of fresh summer sun shining over fields of a green, green grass. Picking up his tools, Keith slid back into the cavity in Black’s hull. “Just try not to shock me, okay?” He told her.

Pidge blew out a snickering laugh. “Maybe you should be more careful then,” She suggested.

Keith rolled his eyes and went back to work.

 

***

 

 

The grating chime of an alarm clock woke Keith mere hours after he’d ended his video call with Shiro. It felt like more like minutes in Keith's mind. Grunting he flipped around beneath the mound of blankets piled over his body. Somehow, Keith managed to disentangle his arm. Flinging it out, he groped around the bedside table for his phone. It almost fumbled to the floor, and Keith cursed as he tried to swipe the alarm off when he finally had it in hand. Wrinkling his nose, Keith rolled onto his stomach. He pulled the blankets up and buried himself again.

This _sucked_.

Keith didn’t want to get up. He wanted to sleep. As much as he had enjoyed talking to Shiro, now in the lonely light of morning Keith felt a bit hollow. He was also stupidly tired. The only thing that made any of this better was that Shiro had promised to call later that evening. It should’ve made Keith feel better. Instead, all he felt was anxious.

Frowning, he curled in on himself. The feeling of anxiety didn’t diminish. It picked and picked and picked until finally Keith thrashed the blankets off and rolled onto his back. The palm he pressed into his chest did nothing to ease the persistent ache there. Nothing new about that. Hissing out a curse, Keith pinched his eyes shut. Sitting here brooding about missing Shiro was not going to solve a damned thing. And while Keith did entertain the thought of skipping class, he was fairly certain Shiro would not approve. So Keith hauled himself upright with and got out of bed.

The creeping sensation of unease grew a fraction, but Keith was resolute as he put it out of mind. He had about 30 minutes before his first class, so if he hurried he could make it to the mess for something to eat. The sooner Keith could distract himself the better.

But the vague feeling of dread followed Keith all morning. By the time his lunch period rolled around he was feeling on edge, and slippery in his own skin. The ache in his chest was a constant throb of merciless pain now and it had spread out to encompass his lungs. It hurt to even breathe. It had _never_ been this bad. Gritting his teeth against the rising edge of panic, Keith all but fled the chaos and noise of the mess hall. Hoping the quiet of the quad would help him to get his bearings, Keith retreated to his usual spot. It didn’t help. Not in the slightest. Almost Keith gave to the impulse to skip the rest of his classes and go back to his room.

Instead, he sat quietly for several long minutes. Eventually, he was able to calm and center himself. Shiro would’ve been impressed, Keith thought. The older boy had tried on numerous occasions to try and drill some sense of Zen into Keith. It hardly ever worked, and Keith felt his mouth quirk into a wry smile at the thought. It figured that the one time that Keith was able to do it himself, Shiro wasn’t around to actually see it.

Keith felt a bit better, though, despite the fact that the niggling sense of dread didn’t fade. The pain beneath his breastbone was still there as well, but he found that it was somewhat more bearable. Grabbing up his things, Keith decided to try his next class. It was the last one, thankfully, and all he had to do was power through a flight sim.

Easy peasy.

Keith knew he'd miscalculated the second he stepped into the simulator. Around him, the very world seemed to shiver and violent tremor wracked his body. It left Keith feeling hot and cold all over. Feeling sick, Keith slumped into the pilot's seat even as a cold sweat caught him. For a second none of the buttons or controls in front of him made any sense. He stared, goggling at the flashing lights.

_“Keith...! Keith..!”_

It was a strange crackle over the comm. The voice pulled Keith from his stupor. In his chest, his heart slammed wildly against his ribs. The voice sounded like Shiro, Keith was sure of it. He jerked upright with a start, confused about where he was. For a second the world split double and flashed with howling snow. There was a roar in Keith's ears.

“..Any time today, Cadet Kogane.”

Iverson.

He sounded annoyed and faintly bored. Blinking, feeling somewhat embarrassed, Keith glanced aside to his teammates. They were watching him like he’d grown two heads. He was in the flight simulator. He must have imagined the rest.  Keith took a measured breath and punched the comm.

“Sorry, Sir. Starting the sim now. Standby.”

 It didn't get any better once Keith had the controls in hand. The world still felt as though it had tipped on its axis. Keith's reactions were slow and stilted. He felt like he was underwater, and that his head had been stuffed with cotton. It was like being trapped in an odd dream, it was like Keith was floating outside of himself. He failed the sim spectacularly by ricocheting off a cliff face and crashing into an enemy ship. When Keith sat up and stumbled out of the cramped simulator, Iverson was waiting for him.

“What in the hell is wrong with you, Cadet?” The Commander demanded.

Keith heard the words but they jangled in his head like they were another language. Around him, Keith's classmates were watching. But their faces had gone soft and shapeless. Even Iverson had become a blur of colors. Confused, Keith’s brows pinched together. The only thing he could concentrate on was the agonizing explosion of pain in his chest. Vision tunneling, Keith pinched his eyes shut.

Christ, it _hurt_.

It hurt so much that Keith felt tears sliding down his face as he stumbled to the floor. Around him was the confusing clamor of voices and shouting. Oddly, beyond that was the shriek of metal grinding together. Panting, gasping for air, for one terrifying moment Keith felt like he was about to die; he was _sure_   he was about to die. Then, like a bubble bursting, there was nothing.

The pressure was gone, the pain was gone. Keith was drifting, floating somehow outside of himself. Wherever he was, it was dark and cool. Like sliding into placid blue waters beneath a vast, starry sky. The sheer comfort of it had Keith sobbing out in relief.

Then there was a voice that was not so much a voice as it was a feeling speaking to him. Keith couldn’t quite make out what it was telling him, but he felt at ease. It coaxed him further into stillness, urging Keith to rest. For some reason, he found himself fighting it. For some reason, it was important to hold on to the pain. It was vital somehow, and Shiro was at the center of it. Keith had to hold on to that; had to hold on to Shiro.

But the voice was gentle as it drew him away from all that. Keith found himself lulled by the vague sense of rocking, and the peace it instilled in him. Somehow it reminded Keith of his father and of ocean waves crashing on the shore.  Keith had never seen the ocean, nor had he ever heard the sound of the surf in anything but a movie, but It calmed him and soon Keith felt himself drifting away.

When Keith next opened his eyes it was to the washed out beige ceiling in the Garrison infirmary. Groggy and ill at ease, he wondered what the hell had happened. His thoughts were sluggish and he felt like he’d had a bit too much to drink. Grunting, Keith pushed himself upright on the narrow infirmary bed. His head swam.

It took a second for the dizziness to abate, but when it did Keith looked around. There didn’t seem to be anyone else nearby. The rest of the tidy beds lined up against the wall were empty. The only sound in the long room was the faint buzz of the overhead lights.

“..Hello?” He finally called out.

In his mouth, Keith’s tongue felt gummy and dry. He swallowed hard and made a face. He could've murdered a gallon of water or two. His mouth tasted fucking disgusting. Shuffling to the edge of the thin mattress, Keith kicked his legs over the side. He peered in the direction of the office that was on the other end of the room. 

He called out again. “Hey, is there anyone here?”

 There was a distant shuffling, then the sound of footsteps. A moment later and the Garrison’s on-site doctor was poking her head out into the main room.

“Oh, I thought I heard something,” She said as she moved out of the office and approached.

Her shoes clicked smartly on the tile as she drew near, and Keith couldn’t help but wince at the sound. It wasn’t the first time he’d been here. It wouldn't be the last either. But for as much as Keith had been at the other end of Doctor Kendall’s scrutinizing stare, he never got used to it.

She was a fastidious woman, a little shorter than Keith and of average build. Her dark, thick hair she wore twisted into a neat bun at the back of her head. The lines of her uniform were always crisp beneath the long, white coat she wore. But the thing that Keith had first noticed about her, the thing he always noticed about her, was her Soul Mark. It was a pale violet smudge extending above the collar of her blouse, stark against the rich brown hue of her skin. He tried not the stare at the mark now, fixing his gaze on the far wall instead.

“Feeling any better, Kogane?” Doctor Kendall asked. Her tone was curt but concerned.

Keith shrugged. Honestly, he wasn't sure how he felt. In some ways, it was better. His heart wasn’t trying to explode out of his chest anymore, so that was a plus. But something was still amiss. Keith couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the feeling of dread was still there.

Finally, after a long silence, he spoke up “…What happened?”

Doctor Kendall drew closer. When Keith glanced up she was giving him an appraising look. She reached out to pluck the chart from the end of the bed and handed it to Keith.

“Physically, you appear to be fine. We did a complete scan and nothing seemed to be amiss," She explained. " I did talk to your classmates and Commander Iverson, however. I suspect you’ve had a rather severe anxiety attack.”

Keith frowned at that.

 _Anxiety_? Sure, okay. He could buy that. It explained a damned lot, actually. But even if anxiety was the case, Keith had never been dropped in his tracks by it. Not like _this_. This was something else, and he knew it. He wasn’t sure how he knew it, but Keith was sure; Bone-deep and certain. Of course, he didn’t tell Doctor Kendall that. Instead, Keith made a soft, considering sound and glanced down at the paperwork in his hands. He didn’t read it, he didn’t really care.

“Okay...So now what?” He asked as he set the clipboard aside.

“Well, for now, I can give you something to take the edge off if you think you need it. Then I suggest you get some rest.” Doctor Kendall advised. “If this is something that happens often we can discuss long-term treatment. It doesn't have to impact your daily life, Kogane.”

Keith balked a bit at that, unsure if he liked the idea. Somehow he doubted the Garrison would look kindly on a cadet with anxiety training to be a fighter pilot. But Keith didn't want to deal with all that now. All he wanted was to get the hell out of the infirmary and sleep forever. The buzzing, clinical lighting was starting to hurt his eyes. Not only that, Keith was starting to get distracted by Doctor Kendall’s Soul Mark.

“Yeah, okay. Can I go back to my dorm now?” Keith demanded somewhat impatiently.

For a second he was sure Doctor Kendall would keep him there, but after a moment she relented. “Let me get your discharge papers sorted and then you can go.” She told him. Turning, she moved in the direction of her office.

Keith sagged with relief even as he itched to escape. It seemed to take a lifetime before Doctor Kendall returned. When she finally did she was holding a fold of papers and a bottle that jangled with several pills.

“These will help you to get some rest,” She explained. “Instructions are on the paper, but I want you back here immediately if you start feeling badly again. Regardless I expect you to check in with me tomorrow. Is that understood, Cadet?”

What Keith didn't tell Doctor Kendall was that he already felt terrible. Instead, he stood and gave her a somewhat sloppy salute. “Yes, Ma'am.” He affirmed.

Doctor Kendall nodded in dismissal and Keith was free to go. Turning, he forced himself to measure his steps as he left the room. It was an exercise in patience to walk slowly from the infirmary and out into the hall. As soon as Keith turned the corner and was out of sight he picked up the pace and split.

The trip to the dorms was a blur. What few cadets Keith passed in the hall, he was sure were staring at him. He wondered if rumors about what had happened in the sim were already starting to spread. Typically, he wouldn’t have given two shits. But Keith was feeling too raw, too exposed. He all but launched himself into his room and fell back against the door once it wooshed shut. He felt jittery and feverish. It took work, but eventually, he was able to compel his lungs to work as they were meant to. Once Keith had accomplished that he was kicking away from the door and moving toward his bed.

Pausing Keith skimmed the paperwork Doctor Kendall had given him. Afterward, he retrieved one of the pills from the bottle and swallowed it dry. Then Keith was wriggling out of his uniform and chucking it aside. Down to his underwear and a t-shirt, Keith grabbed his laptop. He’d need it later and didn’t want to go scrambling for it. Computer in hand, he crawled into bed where he huddled under the blankets.

This entire day had been a shit show. Keith was _so_ done, despite the fact that it was only quarter till five.

He’d sleep until Shiro called, and that would be his consolation prize for such a shitty, shitty day. It was the only thing that made this whole thing even remotely better in Keith’s mind. He fell asleep wondering if Shiro’s day had been any better than his.

But when Keith woke it was to pale morning light filtering through the crack at the bottom of his window shade. Confused, and angry at himself Keith pulled his computer out of standby. There were no missed calls from Shiro. Checking his email yielded nothing from the older boy either. Keith's stomach churned with bitter disappointment. It was strange that Shiro hadn't kept his promise, or at least shot Keith a message about it. It put Keith into a funk as he tapped out a quick email telling Shiro to call when he got the chance.

Deciding to stay in his room, Keith blew off his meeting with Doctor Kendall and his responsibilities. He hoped that Shiro would try calling him during the day. When he didn't, Keith got angry. He shot off a few more messages, but those went unanswered as well. Keith waited all night, and by the time that the sun crept up on to the horizon on the second day, he hadn’t slept a wink. Deep down, Keith knew something was terribly wrong. He’d known for a while now if he were being honest with himself. It had something to do with what had happened in the sim.

Choosing to ignore the world and skip classes again, Keith tried to get some sleep. But his rest was fitful and his dreams were strange, disjointed nightmares. He could hear screaming amidst flashes of dim, purple light. He heard Shiro’s voice, crackling with static like he was calling out over a great distance. These dreams had Keith gasping in his bed and clawing at his wretched heart. Miserable and hungry, Keith finally decided he’d had enough and emerged from his room.

But for as much as the grinding in Keith's guts told him he needed to eat, he was dreading the mess hall. It was the middle of the day, so he knew it would be packed to the brim. The idea of people was not exactly a palatable one. He was scowling as he left his room, wishing he could avoid the ordeal altogether. The closer Keith got to the mess hall, the more he realized that an odd sort of stillness had taken over the Garrison halls. As Keith approached the crowded, but silent dining area, a sudden panic churned in his guts.

Something had happened.

His feet were not his own as he shuffled into the room. Every head was turned in direction of the television monitors. No one noticed Keith. No one cared. They were far too busy watching the screens. _Pilot Error_ was splashed across each and every single one. _  
_

 

Keith turned and ran.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey guys. So I bet you weren't expecting an update so soon. Neither was I, but I got bit by my Keith muse. Anyway, things are going to start revealing themselves from here on out, so that being said you'll notice a bit of canon-divergence. I was actually trying to get this fic finished before S2, but it didn't happen. Anyway, I've incorporated some things that are canon from S2, and changed a fair bit as well. It just seemed to work better for the flow of this particular 'verse. 
> 
> Thanks for bearing with me. I promise there will be fluff soon! :D 
> 
> As always, hit me up on tumblr @inkfishie

 

 

It was several more hours before Pidge was finally ready to call it quits. The problem, as it turned out, was that a thick metal cuff that had been protecting a bundle of conduit wiring had been damaged. The wiring, Pidge explained, was vital to the flow of energy that created the particle barrier. The cuff itself was an easy fix. All Keith had to do was to solder the gaping pieces back together. The shimmering conduit which had been severed was another matter. That would have to be repaired by someone with a bit more know-how.

Keith had always considered himself a decent mechanic. He'd never had any problems patching up his hoverbike. He'd even fixed the aging water heater in his dessert shack on more than one occasion. Wiring and electronics though? Not his thing at all. Thankfully, their resident engineer was damned good at what he did.There was no doubt in Keith's mind that Hunk would be able to sort the mess out in short order. Of course, that meant that Pidge would have to wait until the yellow paladin was available. At the moment both he and Lance were currently assisting the Vynji outside of the castle.

A host of other tasks waited for Keith in the meantime, and he wasted no time and getting about his business. There were several panels of the Black Lion's hull that needed to be patched and repaired. Like the soldered cuff, the panels were an easy fix and required minimal effort to repair. Thick gloves on, and protective goggles in place, Keith gleefully went to work. That he got to play with what was essentially an Altean blow torch was an added bonus.

Somewhere nearby, Pidge was running diagnostics on her computer. Eventually, she shouted in an attempt to get Keith's attention over the roar of spitting fire.

“Dude! I’m starving, let's go eat!”

Flipping the torch off, Keith shoved back the goggles on his face and turned in Pidge’s direction. She had snapped her laptop shut and was scowling from where she sat on the floor.

“We should steal Hunk after so we can get this done.” Keith told her. “I’ll switch with him or something. We need to get the lions fixed as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, sure. I need a break, though. You can finish being manly and play with fire later.” Pidge replied, her tone wry.

Keith snorted in amusement at that. Setting aside the tool, he pulled off the gloves and tossed them aside.

“I’m not _playing_ ,” He returned, using the hem of his sleeveless top to sop up the perspiration clinging to his neck. It was running down his back as well, and Keith could feel where the damp fabric clung to his skin. His nose wrinkled up in distaste. A shower was definitely in his future.

“Well, you’re not very manly either.” Pidge pointed out with a smirk.

Keith pulled the goggles off his head and chucked them at Pidge. They hit her square in the chest.

“Ow!” She yowled.

“You deserved that,” Keith said with a grin.

“Okay, _fine_ , but can we go eat please?” Pidge shot back as she pulled herself to her feet.

Keith shook his head, amused. “Yeah, okay,” He agreed.

Pausing to tidy his disheveled hair, Keith scooped the straggling ends off it up off his sweaty neck. Quickly he re-tied it in to a short tail. That accomplished, he looped the trailing arms of his coveralls into a more secure knot at his hips.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Ready,” Pidge affirmed.

They left the hangar at an easy clip. For the most part, now that they had landed, the castle was theirs again. It was just as well. That there had been so many strangers loitering about of late had been a bit irksome. Just having the remaining Vyjni leaders hanging around was enough to set Keith’s teeth on edge. He was ready for this whole situation to be over and done with. Keith wanted things to go back to normal. Well, as normal as flying around in a space castle with giant robot cats could be.

That he hadn't gotten a chance to speak to Shiro yet was another thorn in Keith's side. He kept coming back to their argument in the med bay. It bothered Keith that it was still festering between them-- To say nothing of the larger issue.

Keith frowned over it as they moved through the maze of corridors toward the kitchens. He was about to ask Pidge for some advice when they came around a corner and nearly collided with Shiro and Coran. Reflex had Keith shooting out an arm to grab the smaller paladin before she smashed into the Altean.

“Woah! Easy there, Number Five! No need to rush about!” Coran pointed out in a lighthearted tone once they had all recovered.

Both he and Shiro were carrying crates of some sort. Shiro, loaded with two to Coran's one, glanced in Keith's direction. He offered up something of a stilted smile.

“Keith, Pidge.” He greeted. “How’re the lions coming?”

It was the first real interaction they'd had all day. In fact, it was the first time Keith had even _seen_ Shiro since the night before. It annoyed Keith a bit. He spoke before he could stop himself.

“I thought you were busy being all diplomatic or some shit.” He blurted.

It sounded like an accusation and almost immediately Keith regretted his tone. He felt his face go hot with embarrassment. To cover, and perhaps in an attempt to make amends, he reached out to snatch up the extra crate in Shiro’s arms.

“What’s in the boxes?” Keith asked with less fire, hoping he sounded apologetic.

Thankfully, Shiro didn’t press it. Instead, he opted to let Keith have the easy out despite the way his mouth tightened into a small frown.

“Yeah, I was-- I mean, Allura and I were. But Hunk found some-- What are they again? I don’t know, it is food, though.” Shiro explained.

At Keith’s side, Pidge was straining to check out the contents of the crate. “Food? Let me see, I’m _starving_. Can I eat it now?” She pressed.

Struggling not to drop the box as Pidge tried to rifle it open, Keith finally set it down and let her have her way. Glancing up, he found that Shiro was watching him. The older paladin's look was halfway between a brooding frown and sullen defeat. Their eyes caught, and Keith quirked a curious brow. When Shiro merely shrugged and looked aside Keith blew out an annoyed breath. What was the most bewildering, however, was the subtle darkening of Shiro's skin. It had a flush of color spreading out over the puckered flesh of his scar.

But beyond the bubble of their silent conversation, Pidge had finally gotten into the crate. She had pulled out one of the objects within and was grilling Coran about it.

“...How can it be a berry if looks like a peach?” Pidge was asking. “A berry is _not_ a peach, Coran.”

“Aah, but it’s not just any berry, it’s an osibok berry!” The Altean returned. “They are quite plentiful in this region and grow on the great Osibok tree!”

“Berries don’t grow on trees, though,” Keith cut in, drawing his attention away from Shiro.

Stooping, he plucked one of the odd fruits from the box. It did indeed resemble a peach. If you discounted the shade of radioactive pink that the faintly fuzzy skin was.

“It does kind of look like a peach,” Shiro agreed as he too peered into the opened crate. “I bet Hunk could make some damned good dessert with it.”

Keith contemplated the fruit as he recalled the pie incident from days earlier. The color wasn't all that off-putting, he decided. Keith had in fact eaten stranger things since becoming a space traveler. Green Goo was right at the top of the list and he ate that every day. Space peaches, even if Keith wasn't all that fond of peaches, didn't seem so bad.

Besides, if anyone could make something delicious out of all this space fruit, it was Hunk.

Keith shrugged and brought the osibok berry to his mouth for a bite. The flesh yielded easily enough and it did indeed have a very similar texture to that of a peach. A spurt of juice leaked down Keith’s wrist and he lapped it up before it ran down his arm.

“Blackberries,” He finally declared after a moment of thought.

Glancing up, Keith found that the other three were watching him. Pidge's feral gaze was fixed on the fruit as if it were going to jump away at any second. Coran seemed pleased by Keith’s proclamation. Shiro, was still a bit pink-faced and seemed distracted. He did offer Keith a bit of a tight smile, though.

“Blackberries, huh?” The eldest paladin asked thoughtfully.

Keith nodded, eyes fixed on Shiro’s as he took another bite of the juicy osibok berry. “Yeah, totally. Just like ‘em. Not the ones from the store, though, wild ones. Like the kind you pick on the side of the road or something.” He explained.

But the expression on the older paladin's face was still distant, still closed off. It was infuriating. Keith acting on sheer, mad impulse stepped forward. Then, before he could think better of it, he nudged the soft, pink flesh of the fruit against Shiro's lips.

"Here, try it." Keith ordered, gaze intent and fierce as he watched for Shiro's reaction; He _wanted_ a reaction. Something more than the brooding quiet and sedate compliance he'd been getting from the older man.

For a second Shiro seemed a little stunned. He hesitated for the space of a tick, then he was craning forward to steal a bite of the proffered osibok berry. Juice ran down Keith’s arm, but he ignored it in favor of keeping his eyes trained on Shiro’s. They were sparking with a strange mix of curiosity and challenge.

 _There_.

That was it. That was what Keith wanted. His mouth curled in a small, yet pleased grin. Suddenly Keith felt a little reckless; like he wanted to do something a little stupid. Like he wanted do something a little amazing. Instead, Keith drew back to lick a long stripe down his arm where the juice of the osibok berry had left a sticky smear on his skin. It wasn’t until he glanced aside to find Pidge angling him with a sly, knowing look that Keith felt his own face go hot.

“Blackberries.” Shiro agreed, drawing Keith’s attention.

He flicked his eyes in the older pilot’s direction. Shiro wore a brash sort of smile that made Keith think that he’d lost this strange little repartee. He snorted, eyes narrowing. Had it not been for Pidge, Keith might've taken another impulsive dig at Shiro. She was making loud gagging noises beside him.

“Ugh, you guys are so gross. I literally can’t believe you.” She said.

“You’re gross,” Keith shot back, attacking the fruit with a bit more vigor. Mostly to give himself something to do so that he didn’t have to focus on Shiro. Or the restless tension that had taken up residence under his skin.

Shiro huffed out a soft laugh. “Gross or not, it’s a good thing we ran into you. Coran needed your help, Keith.”

“That’s right, Number Four!” Coran interrupted. “I require your mechanical prowess for a very specific job.”

Inwardly, Keith groaned. He’d been looking forward to taking a break. The last time he’d been asked to help Coran with a task had been damned near torturous. Keith had been stuck for hours as Coran related the history of some space caterpillar. Said space caterpillar, Keith had been informed, was actually revered as a god by a race of mole people.

Never mind the fact that Keith had just spent _hours_ working on Black. Grimacing, Keith deflated. There was no use trying to get out of it, not now that he'd formally recruited.

Shiro, sensing Keith’s discouragement offered a bit of a conciliatory shrug. “It shouldn’t take too long,” He offered.

“Ugh, fine. _Okay_. What is it?” Keith asked as he swept his bangs up out of his face in frustration. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Shiro had tracked the action with his own dark eyes.

Coran grinned as he set his own crate of osibok berries into Pidge’s unsuspecting arms. "That's the spirit!" He exclaimed. "Between the two of us the job will be done in no time!"

Keith doubted it. In fact, he really fucking doubted it. He shot Shiro a black look. The older pilot at least had the decency to look sheepish. Their little stand-off seemed to have shaken him out of his strange mood at least. That was better than nothing Keith supposed.

“The device the Vyjni need to start the terraforming process is malfunctioning. They think it was damaged in the attack.” Shiro explained.

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” Pidge cut in, sarcasm lacing her tone.

That had Keith snorting in amusement despite himself. But Coran went on, oblivious to the joke.

“Brilliant suggestion, Five! That was actually the first thing I tried.” The Altean explained. “ It seems like the minagalian nozzle is on the fritz though, so it’s messing with the whole granatangular array. It looks like we’ll have to pull it all apart to examine the true source of the problem.”

Keith blinked. He had no idea what the hell any of that meant. From the blank looks that Shiro and Pidge were giving Coran, they seemed to be in the same boat. Lucky for them, Keith was the only one who would have the pleasure of finding out.

“...Gre~eeat. Sounds... Fun.” Keith observed without enthusiasm.

He glanced in Shiro’s direction. The bastard looked like he was on the verge of laughter. Keith scowled fiercely. It only had Shiro biting his lip in an attempt to quell his amusement. Growling, Keith heaved the crate of fruit up off the floor and all but dropped it in Shiro’s arms. The other pilot huffed out a startled breath.

“I hate you so much,” Keith hissed into Shiro’s ear.

"Lies. Lies from your mouth." Shiro teased.

"Whatever, asshole," Keith told the older pilot, scowling as he turned to Coran. "Let's just go before I commit paladincide."

“Excellent! It shouldn’t take too long. The sooner we start the sooner we finish!”

Keith grunted an affirmative response. He didn't mention that he'd had a very similar conversation with Pidge earlier.  "Later, Pidge. I'll come find you, my only friend, later. After we fix the granola nozzle thingey."

"Have fun!" Pidge announced, all barbed humor.

Keith stuck his tongue out at her, then waved good-bye to Shiro. After that he was turning to follow Coran down the hall.

They were quiet as they made their way through the castle. Keith munched at his osibok berry, enjoying the taste of it despite its peachy appearance. By the time they stepped out into the balmy afternoon of the Vyjni's new planet, Keith was down to the small, purple pit in the center of the fruit. He chucked aside and followed Coran out across the grass.

It was nice out here, Keith had to admit. Feeling a bit better about life, he tipped his face up into the hazy purple sky; enjoying the heat of the sun on his skin. The planet itself was actually very similar to Earth. That is, if you inverted the natural colors of earth like a film negative. The place where the Vyjni had chosen to settle was a vast, open grassland on the border of a forest. Coran explained that the temperate weather was the norm for this planet. It did periodically suffer from a monsoon season in the lower hemispheres, however.

That was fine with Keith, so long as the weather was cooperating where they were. It felt like a decade since he’d been able to enjoy the simple pleasure of having the wind in his hair and the sun on his face. That he could do so without the aid of his paladin helmet was even better. The Vyjni shared the same atmospheric needs as human’s despite their differences.

They almost looked like dragon people, Keith decided, as he and Coran made their way through the settlement. The Vyjni were tall, bi-pedal creatures with long limbs. The ends of their fingers were capped by long, opalescent claws. Their skin, multi-hued looked as if it had been hewn from semi-precious stone. Scale-like, it glimmered under the sun. They all had the same black hair and eyes, and their ears were long and pointed. Almost like Altean’s save for the sheer size of them. Most of the Vyjni, Keith noted, decorated their ears with a variety of jewelry.

The only thing that really put Keith off was the jagged, fang-like teeth that hid behind their full lips. It gave a menacing look to even the young ones. Several of these children were watching Keith as he followed Coran to the far edge of the sprawling encampment. Keith ignored them, instead climbing up into one of the castle’s speeders which had been parked on the edge of the settlement. He and Coran would take the speeder out into the grassland where the device that needed repair was located. After it was fixed, the Vynji could start work on cultivating their sustainable crops.

It didn’t take long to reach the spot, and once he and Coran had alighted from the speeder they got to work.

Keith had to admit, the Coran was a much more tolerant task master than Pidge. He took the time to answer Keith’s questions as they picked the machine apart. He also didn’t seem to mind Keith’s frustration when the device didn’t want to cooperate. Coran even suggested some creative Altean curses when Keith began to swear at the thing.

All and all, it wasn’t nearly as bad as Keith had imagined it would be.

Coran, for all his silly bluster, was a good instructor. Eventually, though, Keith needed a break. The heat of the sun, which had been nice at first, had become damned near unbearable. Keith could feel his skin starting to burn, not to mention he was dripping with sweat from places he hadn’t even realized he _could_ sweat. Frustrated, and over-heated, Keith tossed aside the tool he was holding.

“I need a drink.” He declared. “And a break.”

Coran, didn't seem surprised in the slightest. He was, as far as Keith could tell, completely unaffected by the heat and mild humidity. In fact, the only concession Coran had made to the weather was to remove his gloves and the tailored, long-sleeved outer garment he typical wore. Bare-armed in a dark, sleeveless top the older man seemed the very picture of comfort. Meanwhile, Keith was damp all over and felt disgusting. Stupid Alteans.

“Righty-Oh, Number Four." He said. "There’s some water in the speeder. I could do with a drink myself, now that I think about it.”

Keith grunted.

 “If I die tell the others I melted,” He grumbled as he slumped toward the speeder.

“Do humans do that?!” Coran replied in genuine alarm.

Keith laughed despite himself. “Naw, I’m just stupidly hot.” He said as he reached up into the speeder in search of the water.

Once found he tossed a bottle to Coran, and cracked into the other. Keith chugged half of it before wilting into the meager shade beneath the speeder’s wing. Falling into a contemplative silence, he gazed out across the stretch of grassy land.

In the distance, Keith could see the dark-haired figures of the Vyjni. They were moving amongst the dome-like structures they’d been constructing. A flash of white might’ve been Lance in his paladin armor, but Keith wasn’t sure this far out. He wondered what the other boy thought of the Vyjni, if they unnerved him at all.

Keith still couldn’t decide if the Vyjni had ratted them out to the Galra or not. Something about the battle still nagged Keith. He thought about how scared they all had been in the heat of the battle, and about how frantic the Vyjni leaders had been to make an alliance. Keith also thought about ever-present ache in his chest and what it all meant.

Taking another hearty gulp of his water, Keith frowned. After a moment he glanced up to find Coran studying him; head tipped to the side in speculation.

“A zango for your thoughts?” The Altean asked as he moved to sit beside Keith.

 “I was just... I don’t know.” Keith began. He chewed a bit at the lip of the plastic bottle before blowing out a loud breath. “The other paladins, before us, they were...Close. Right? I mean they all shared a connection and could feel one another and all that, couldn’t they?”

“Oh yes, they were quite close,” Coran affirmed. He seemed to be scrutinizing Keith, and for a moment it seemed as though he might not elaborate. After a brief pause, he went on. “When a paladin bonds with a lion, their life-force fuses with that of their lion. It is very similar process with the paladins. Their souls fuse. The stronger the bond, the closer they become. Voltron is a physical manifestation of their spiritual state; five distinct energies coming together to form one being.”

It made sense, Keith supposed. Even though he had only known the others for only short while he still felt as though he were a part of them; a piece a larger whole. For someone who had spent his life in a state of near constant misanthropy it was nothing short of terrifying to feel so close to other people. Somehow, Keith had changed. He knew with absolute certainty that he would die to protect any one of them. Even Coran and Allura.

Keith suspected it had something to do with Voltron, but likely it had, even more, to do with Shiro.

“So… If our life force or energy or whatever gets close enough, it’ll be like we’re linked with one another all the time? We’ll be able to sense each other and feel what the others do even when we’re not in our lions?” Keith asked.

“Precisely. Right now the bond is new. The lions amplify it. Eventually, though, you’ll all be able to read one another as clearly as you do your lions.” Coran replied.

Keith mulled that over for the space of several long ticks. But the more he thought about it, the more it bothered him. Unease unspooled in his gut. So much so that Red, a slumbering presence in the back of Keith's mind, stirred.

The realization was like a bolt of electricity, it left the hair on Keith’s arms standing on edge.

“Zarkon,” He blurted. “He betrayed them-- He--” Keith couldn’t finish the thought. He was too disturbed by the implications.

Beside him, Coran’s expression hardened; his posture went stiff.

“In betraying the paladins, Zarkon destroyed more than just the ideals of Voltron.” The Altean said, his voice tight with a strange fire. “The peace we worked so hard for, the trust of his people, the trust of those who loved him most… He betrayed all of that, Keith. Zarkon destroyed his very soul when he turned his back on us.”

Keith couldn’t imagine it. The very idea made him sick at heart and made his stomach churn in revulsion. When the place beneath his sternum began to ache, he wasn't at all surprised. Keith pinched his eyes shut against it, refusing to try to ease the pain of it in Coran's presence.

In his mind, Keith could feel Red. Her warmth and concern wrapped him like a blanket. It was comforting and he couldn’t help but smile a bit. Even so, Keith eventually eased her aside with an assurance that he was fine. It was a long while before Keith could master himself enough to steal a glance in Coran’s direction. The Altean was looking off toward the Vyjni settlement, but Keith was suspected that he wasn’t actually seeing it.

“...But how does that work for..like Soulmates? Do Alteans even have Soulmates?” Keith asked, hoping the question would draw the older man away from the dark mood that had settled over them.

It seemed to do the trick because Coran perked up almost immediately.

“The bond between Soulmates is what Alfor drew on in the creation of the lions. He realized that without the synchronicity that exists between those who share a soul-bond, Voltron could not be.” Coran explained. “So yes, Alteans do have Soulmates. We do not have Colors, though, if that’s what you’re asking.”

That _was_ what Keith was asking Caught, he felt his face go hot.

Even so, Keith wondered why, if Alteans didn’t have colors, had Shiro’s neck suffused with color when Allura had touched him? Wasn’t it possible that because the lions were now bonded to humans, that Allura could now have a color? After all, wasn’t her life-force connected to the lions? Weren’t they all supposed to be linked or blended or whatever? Was that why Pidge, Hunk, and Lance had their colors smudged across Shiro’s skin?

There were too many question and not enough fucking answers.

“Then how do you know who you’re supposed to be with if you don’t have colors?” Keith countered finally, frustrated.

Beside him, Coran released a soft laugh. “Humans are so _funny_. A color doesn’t decide who you should care about, Keith. Your heart does. Why go through life hiding all your light and love away? It’s meant to be shared, not secreted away.”

Stunned, Keith could only stare at the older man. When put like that, it did seem kind of funny, and a little sad. Because for as much as Keith thought he agreed with Coran, he still ached to belong to someone. He still longed to see color blossoming out across his skin; bold and lovely. He wanted someone of his own to call his home. Coran, who wasn't mired in the human beliefs regarding Colors and Soulmates, just couldn't understand. He would _never_ understand. It left Keith feeling deflated, and suddenly very lonely.

“..But how do you know, then? How can you tell who your Soulmate is?” He asked, feeling equal parts helpless and hopeless.

Beside him, Coran reached out to set a hand on Keith’s shoulder. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You feel it, Keith. That’s how you know.”

"That doesn’t make sense,” Keith shot back, shrugging away to pin the Altean with a scowl. “What if you make a mistake? What if you think you feel it but it’s not right? What if you feel it but the other person doesn't?”

“Aaaah, but how did you know that Red was your lion? You felt it, didn’t you? There was a recognition deep down in your bones, a moment when you connected and you knew. ” Coran pointed out with a smile. “It’s difficult, I suppose, for humans. They’re so reliant on their Colors. Alteans... We feel it. We _Resonate_. Like I said, Alfor used the basis of Altean Soul-Bonds when creating Voltron."

Resonate?

For some reason, it struck a chord of unease and left Keith feeling a bit breathless. “...What do you mean by resonate?” He asked tentatively.

“A mother and her child share a bond, yes? She will know on an instinctual level when something is wrong with her offspring, even if they are apart from one another. Their two souls resonate; they share a commonality. A sameness, if you will." Coran told Keith. "All Altean Soul-bonds are like this. You can only bond if you share that sameness. They aren't exclusive to just our mates either. They can happen on a platonic level as well."

“So...What’re you’re saying, is that it’s like when I’m in Red and can feel when one of the others is scared or with me or whatever?” Keith pressed, voice sounding peculiar in his own ears.

“Exactly!” Coran affirmed. “The level of the connection determines how deeply you feel what your bond partner is feeling. Obviously, we resonate more powerfully with our Soulmate than we would a friend or a family member. So you see this whole Colors thing is a bit strange to us. Alteans form many Soul-Bonds throughout our lives."

“Oh. Right, I see. ” Keith responded.  

For some reason, what Coran was saying unnerved Keith. There was something here that wasn’t adding up. Something that was telling Keith that he was on the precipice of some great and terrifying truth. It left him shivering despite the heat, despite the sweat running down his neck and back. Keith had never been good at backing down, though. Fear had always compelled him to rush head-long in to things and think about the consequences later. There was no question as to what Keith would do, what he was about to do. He _had_ to know.

“Coran," He asked, voice quiet. "...If something terrible happened, if your Soulmate was scared, or seriously hurt, or even dying you would feel it, right? You would know that they were in trouble, wouldn’t you?”

The Altean, for his part, wasn't surprised by Keith’s question in the slightest. In fact, his expression was somber, if not a touch searching. He nodded, shifting to briefly touch his palm to Keith’s chest.

“Yes. Right here,” Coran told him. Then, more gravely he added: “The experience is not one I would wish on even my most reviled enemies.”

Keith did not miss the connotation behind the statement. However, he was too shaken to give it much attention. Confused, he struggled to make sense of it; to work out what this meant. The fear he'd felt moments ago was hammering inside of his skull like a drum. Unbidden, Keith thought of his mother; of the strange muddy hue of her Soulmark. Keith thought of his father and struggled to remember what his voice had sounded like, or what he had looked like when he smiled.

When Keith couldn’t do either he found his thoughts spinning. He thought of the Arizona desert, and of the strange pull that had drawn him out in to the mountains. He thought about the Blue Lion, and how it had been left on Earth of all places.

Something clicked into place. Keith was all but trembling as he whipped his head around and fixed Coran with a hard look.

“The Blue Paladin, what was his name?” He demanded, tone fierce.

Bewildered, The Altean hesitated. It was just long enough that Keith nearly flew apart where he sat. He jolted forward, grabbing the older man by the shoulders to hold him firmly in place.

“Coran, _please_ , you have to tell me. What was his name?” Keith pressed, desperate now.

Finally, Coran relented. “Andrakira. He was tall, dark haired. He had a scar on his brow from a fight he had with an Emberserpent when he was a lad. We called him Kira.”

Keith's heart twisted painfully in his chest. Almost hysterically, Keith wondered if Shiro felt it too; If Shiro had _ever_ felt it. This was too much, it was--It-- Keith couldn't...He---

He slumped backward, panting through his panic. Panting through the knowledge that everything Keith thought he knew about himself was a lie.

 

Kira.

 

 _A_ kira. The name of the man on Keith’s birth certificate. Akira Kogane who had dark hair and a scar on his brow. Akira Kogane who was a giant compared to five-year-old Keith. Who left a little boy his mother to fend for themselves. Akira Kogane who had made a listless, empty shell out of a woman who should have lived to see her son grow into a man.

Akira Kogane who was undoubtedly Andrakira the Blue Paladin. Tall, dark-haired, a scar on his brow.

Keith knew it had to be the truth. The sad, colorless little boy who had been left to face the world all on his own was all the confirmation that Keith needed. The persistent ache in that same little boy’s chest only cemented the fact. Keith pulled himself to his feet. He couldn’t stay here any longer, he had to get out. He had to run.

 

He hopped in the speeder and took off heedless of Coran calling after him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey. I'm still alive. Anyone who's been following my tumblr knows I had some life stuff going on. As well as some other projects and some disillusionment with fandom in general. Anyway, I'm back now with chapter 8. Chapter 9 is in the works, the rough draft is just about done and I've already started editing it. Not sure how many chapters are left, but we're *almost* there people :) 
> 
> Thanks for hanging in there, and as always you can find me on tumblr @Inkifishie

 

 

Keith lasted a grand total of three and a half months without Shiro before he got a summons to a disciplinary hearing.

Honestly, it was a damned miracle that he had managed to make it that long. Iverson had threatened to boot him on several occasions, but this was the first time that it stuck. Apparently smashing a fist into the face of a senior officer was something that the Garrison frowned upon. Berkley had deserved it though. He had been talking shit about the failed Kerberos mission, trying to get a rise out of Keith.

The sickening crunch when Keith's fist connected with Berkley's face had been strangely satisfying. The resulting explosion of blood was so spectacular that one of the engineers in the class, (A big guy. Keith didn’t know his name.) had vomited all over the floor. It probably hadn’t been the best idea because it had landed Keith in a detention cell.

On the flip side of that, Berkley sure as hell wouldn't be running his mouth anytime soon. Keith was sure of that. And if Iverson decided to kick Keith out? So be it. Keith wasn't planning on sticking around and find out anyway. He was _done_. Done with Iverson, done with Berkley and done with the goddamned Galaxy Garrison.

That night Keith paced the length of the detention cell, seething. A plan was starting to take shape amidst the chaos of his thoughts. It gave Keith something to focus on other than his anger. It gave him a sense of purpose.

When daylight broke, Keith was brought back to his dorm, an armed guard in tow. The two guards took up residence outside Keith's door and gave him stiff orders not to try anything stupid. Keith snorted at that. Stupid just meant not going out through the front door where he could be caught.

No, Keith would be going out through the window, thank-you-very-much.

He packed quickly, jamming all his meager belongings into an oversized rucksack. There wasn't much when it came right down to it. The bulk of what Keith was bringing had once belonged to Shiro. Things that he just couldn't bear to leave behind. There were a few textbooks with Shiro's tidy scrawl scribbled in the margins, as well as a battered, well-loved copy of Treasure Island.

Keith also had Shiro's phone. He'd already pulled what data he valued off it but kept the device. The case was worn in places from being handled and somehow it soothed Keith to have it. There were also a few articles of clothing; several dark shirts, a pair of boots Keith had always liked, as well as a couple other things.

The jacket that Shiro had jokingly told Keith that he could have was crammed into the bag last. Packed and ready to go, Keith clipped the fastenings into place and sat back with a frown. Now all he had to do was wait. Wait and try not to think about how much it still hurt. Because of _course_ it still hurt. It pulsed like a poison inside of him, turning Keith's blood to ichor in his veins.

It wouldn't stop. It wouldn't go away. And the lies, all the lies that the Garrison was trying to force down Keith's throat...

Well. Shiro wasn’t around anymore, so there was no reason for Keith to stick around either. He waited until it was dark. Then, in the small hours of the night, Keith used his knife to short-circuit the locks on the windows.

It wasn't until Keith was miles into the desert on Shiro's stolen hover-bike that he realized he had nowhere to go. There wasn't a soul left alive on this planet that he could call home. Nobody wanted him and Keith doubted that he ever would be wanted again.

Keith slowed the bike to a halt and jumped down. The ache in his chest throbbed like he'd been hit by an eighteen-wheeler. Gasping, Keith pushed his palm into his sternum, trying to ease the tightness there. But the realization that he was alone again didn't become any easier as the minutes ticked by.

It was unlikely that Iverson would bother now that Keith had fled. Keith had given the Garrison exactly what it wanted. He was gone like Shiro was gone and the whole mess would be tied up and swept under the rug like it had never happened. Like Keith had never really happened, or even really mattered, to begin with. No fuss, no muss.

For the second time in Keith's life, he was utterly and entirely alone. Shiro had _promised_ to come back, he'd promised. Now the only person who mattered was dead and gone and there was no one. No one at fucking all. Shiro was a damned liar.

Drawing in a shaky breath, Keith pulled off his helmet and scrubbed at his wet eyes. “Fuck every last one of you. I hate you all!" He howled into the darkness.

Shouting didn’t make Keith feel any better. In fact, he felt worse; He felt empty and lost and utterly furious. The place under his sternum pulsed sharply, giving rise to more tears. Keith cursed and kicked violently at the sand. It sprayed up into his eyes and he snarled out, incensed and inarticulate. He scrubbed at his face as he slumped against Shiro's bike.

Eventually, the pain in his chest gentled to a dull throb and Keith was able to catch his breath. Hiccupping on his tears now, Keith finally cleared the grit enough that he could open his eyes. He blinked several times, and turned into his shoulder, wiping his face on the fabric of his shirt. It was several long minutes before Keith was able to force his lungs to work properly. Then Keith put on his helmet and climbed back up onto the hover bike.

There was nothing out here for him. He had to keep moving.

Keith drove until his fingers were numb with cold and he could barely keep his eyes open.He spent the remaining hours of the night huddled in the lee of a large boulder. It took several tries, but eventually, he was able to get a small fire going with the lighter he'd jammed into his pocket. By morning, cold and hungry, Keith was gone again; aimless as he struck out into the sand.

There were several towns nearby he could make for. It was unlikely that the Garrison had notified the local police of Keith's desertion. Typically speaking, cadets were not formally recognized as Garrison personnel until after graduation. Keith was free now, to do or go wherever he chose. If he stopped at the nearest town to refuel, Keith could be in the city by nightfall. Then after that... Who knew?

But it was a funny thing, freedom. It was too big, too vast to chart. And with no point on which to fix himself, Keith was adrift. He'd always had a goal, a far-reaching thing to aim for. Somehow, Shiro had become a cardinal point. A marker for true north that Keith used to plot his course and to navigate his own loneliness. But now that Shiro was gone...

Keith had no idea what to do with himself. He had no plan, no direction and more importantly, very little drive to do much of anything. He was running in circles.

He continued running in circles and several days passed. It was only temporary, Keith reasoned. Until he came up with something better. But after a week, Keith was still nowhere near figuring any of it out. His days held a curious, transitional quality to them. He felt like a ghost, haunting the outskirts of the nearby towns. Truck stops, like beacons in the darkness, drew Keith long enough to refuel and re-supply. He was gone before anyone could take note.

There was a sense of unreality. Like Keith had somehow slipped through the cracks of the material world and into a dream-state. He felt removed from himself, moving as if his limbs were slow and heavy and his mind did not belong to himself. Keith knew there was probably some sort of diagnosis for what was happening to him. Dissociation, or some shit like that. The depression and anxiety probably didn’t help either.

It was only briefly that Keith toyed with the idea of making an appointment somewhere. If he could find someone to prescribe him _something,_ anything, it might've helped Keith to get his head back on straight. But he was no longer subject to the Garrison's health plan. That meant Keith would have to pay out of pocket for services rendered. Eating, he decided, was slightly more important.

Ten days passed uneventfully. On the eleventh day, Keith awoke to grit in his mouth and a sense that something was amiss. He wasn't sure what it was. There was a pull, a feeling that he was standing on the brink of something. Keith mused over the strange feeling as he tucked into a can of beans. Afterward, he packed up his meager supplies, hopped on Shiro's hover-bike and moved on.

The sun inched higher, burning off the chill of the desert night. It was halfway to zenith when Keith sped through a large crevasse and into a massive, open valley. It stretched for miles and miles, the distant mountains a blur along the horizon. Somehow Keith couldn't drive away the feeling that this place seemed familiar somehow.

He wheeled away from the rock-face he'd been following and pushed out into the flat stretch of the valley. There was something in Keith's gut pushing him, urging him to _go go go._ He chased the feeling, desperate now that he'd spent days in a state of fugue feeling absolutely nothing.

In the distance, something shimmered in the afternoon heat. It took taking shape on the horizon, blurry and indistinct. Gradually, the shape resolved itself; squat and rectangular. It wasn’t until Keith got closer that he realized that he was looking at a derelict, old house. Well, it was really more of a shack, Keith realized. He pulled the hover bike up, cautious as he examined the outside of the building.

It appeared abandoned. There were no other vehicles loitering about, and it looked as though there was a fairly large hole in the roof. Circling around the building, Keith frowned at it thoughtfully. The battered porch looked like it was in good enough repair, so Keith moved up the steps to get closer. He peeked through the dust-caked windows, trying to determine if anyone was inside.

Keith didn’t see anyone. In fact, it looked as though no one had been in the small building for a very long time. Compelled to try the front door, Keith moved toward it and twisted the knob. It stuck a bit on the hinges but gave when Keith gave it a bit of a shove with his shoulder. A cloud of dust kicked up as Keith stumbled inside, and he sneezed loudly in the stillness.

The floor was layered in grime and sand. The scattered furniture was in disrepair, and the walls were plastered with brittle, yellowed papers. When Keith stepped closer to examine them, he huffed out in wry satisfaction. They were notices of protocol, all stamped with the Galaxy Garrison logo at the bottom. The building must have been a training outpost at some point; cast off when it no longer served its purpose. It was oddly fitting, Keith decided. He no longer served their purpose either. Keith snorted at that. Then he turned to survey the rest of his surroundings.

There was a small hallway off the back of the main room, and Keith followed it. Along the hall, he discovered two doors. One was a small bathroom with a tiny, dust-caked window. Keith peered inside curiously, noting the stained porcelain of the fixtures. The shower curtain, yellowed and crumbling with age, trailed on the floor where the hooks were broken.

The second door lead to an equally small bedroom. The hole in the roof had let in the wind and weather here, and potentially some sort of animal. The shredded remains of the bed looked as though something had been nesting in it. Keith shut the door quickly, unwilling to find out of the creature was still around.

He made his way to the very end of the hallway to find a small kitchenette and a door that lead outside. The appliances there looked like they'd stepped out of the 80's or something. The stove had _dials_ and was all analog for fuck's sake. Even so, it didn't seem too worse for wear. By the time Keith circled back to the main room, he had decided to stay put for the night.

He went outside to the bike and maneuvered it closer to the shack. He parked it under a small overhang that jutted from the dilapidated roof. That done, Keith grabbed his bag and brought it inside. That’s when Keith pulled off his jacket and got to work.

The idea of sleeping in a pile of dust was not appealing in the slightest, so Keith did the best he could to tidy the main room. By the time it was dark he had managed to clear out the broken furniture and the moldering rug. He'd also given the floor a good sweep. What it really wanted was a scrub, but when Keith had tried the taps all he'd gotten was mucky well water. At least he wouldn’t spend the night coughing his fool head off, which was always a plus.

After that Keith settled in for the night. At some point, he was going to have to make a run to town. His supplies were starting to dwindle, and a shower at a truck stop wouldn't go amiss. Beyond that, Keith still didn’t have any sort of plan. He did feel more grounded than he had in the past several days, however. Maybe he’d get a job nearby. He was a decent mechanic no thanks to his classes.

If Keith saved enough he could get the hell out of the desert and out of Arizona. He could get away from all this and all the reminders of what he had lost. Maybe he'd go somewhere cold, where it snowed. Shiro's family was from Oregon, somewhere on the coast where the weather actually varied dramatically from season to season.

Sullenly, Keith wondered what it was like there. Then Keith wondered if he was stupid to believe that he could ever have someone as good as Shiro in his life. The universe had been against Keith from the very start. It had taken everyone that Keith had ever loved, and now it had taken Shiro too.

Keith scowled, hating the pressure behind his eyes and in his throat. He flopped back onto his bedroll. Misery clutched him like a vice and Keith pinched his eyes shut so tightly that he saw flashes of red behind his eyelids.

“Fuck you, Takashi,” Keith whispered, voice hoarse in his own ears. “You ruined me for everything and now you’re dead. What am I supposed to do now?"

There was no response in the stillness. But the knot of pain in Keith's chest wound tighter. He breathed carefully through it.

 

 

That night Keith dreamed of gleaming, blue seas and the pull of it carrying him far, far away under a glassy, night sky. When he woke it was to darkness and the distant rumble of thunder. The fire he had built in the small fireplace was down to embers, and sleepily he added more fuel to feed the flame.

A storm was rolling in. Keith could hear it moving closer beyond the walls of the shack. For some reason, it reminded Keith of the rumbling purr of a great, lazy cat. He smiled a bit as he lay back down, glad that he had decided to stay. Overhead the thunder rolled and rattled the dusty windows. It was peaceful in a way, the tang of electricity in the air, coupled with the cool smell of the rain. As Keith drifted off it was like sliding back into deep, dark waters.

 

 

***

 

 

Keith stayed at the shack a second night, and then a third. By the time a week had come and gone there was little use in Keith pretending that he hadn’t decided to stick around.  The place needed some work, but it was a shelter. Free shelter at that.

It made sense.

More than that, there was a niggling something in the back of Keith's head that whispered: _Stay, stay, stay_. It vibrated through his skin like a second heartbeat. It sunk its teeth in so that Keith couldn’t think of doing anything else. There was no point in trying to justify his choice with the practicality of it. Keith’s gut said to stay so Keith stayed.

Gradually, he began to fix the place up. Keith took odd jobs in one of the nearby towns and that paid to replace the windows. After the windows, it was the roof, and then creaky floor boards. One month became two and two became three. Keith's work started paying for creature comforts, Like a second-hand couch to sleep on and a generator to provide electricity. Gradually, Keith remembered what it was to live and not just survive.

There was still an insurmountable chasm of loneliness that gaped inside of him though, caustic and raw. The busy worked helped. It kept his mind off it and also helped to distract Keith from the dreams. Falling into bed, exhausted and over-worked was the best medicine to keep them at bay.

Not all of the dreams were terrible. There were some nights where Keith had dreams of flying. He would soar through the vastness of space with stars hurtling past at alarming speeds. Other times there was the crashing waves on and ocean shore and a voice pounding through his skull. It said: _Find me, find me find me._

Other times Keith would jolt awake, a scream lodged in his throat. Those dreams, nightmares really, had Keith shivering in terror as he clawed his way back to consciousness. They were dreams of death and fighting. They were flashes of deep violets and electric black and the stench of sweat and blood. They were fear, and agony and a sound like Shiro’s voice calling out in desperation.

There were some nights that Keith didn't sleep at all. Nights where he was a writhing, panting mess curled up on the floor of his little shack. Jaw tight, Keith would ride wave after wave of lacerating pain and claw uselessly at his chest. Those were the nights where Keith clung to the tatters of his own sense of self. Where he begged for his brain to just fucking stop so he could sleep. It was useless though because the end result was always the same.

Fly or _fall_.

Guiltily, Keith knew which he preferred.

 

 

***

 

 

“There’s been a lot of hubbub up at that base lately. All those convoys out into the desert. I wonder what’s going on this time.” A woman in line ahead of Keith told her friend.

It had been six months since Keith had left Garrison. Nine, since the Kerberos mission had been lost. Even longer since Keith had last seen Shiro face-to-face. It wasn't any better, but Keith was nothing if not stubborn. He clung doggedly to the wreckage of his life, determined to somehow make something of it.

Keith's dreams were still strange and haunted, but the world still spun on its axis. The sun still rose, the stars came out and the days went on. Shiro was still gone and Keith still had to eat. Which was why he was in line at the grocery store, waiting impatiently for the two women ahead of him to hurry the hell up.

“I heard they were looking to expand their facility. I heard they signed a contract with the military or something.” The second woman said.

Keith rolled his eyes. Civilians could be surprisingly ignorant. Garrison had always trained for combat situations. Even those who specialized in engineering or science related fields were trained to fight. It wasn't a secret. Nor was it a secret that the military was the first choice for many graduating cadets. In fact, the armed forces offered some pretty cushy job opportunities to Garrison graduates.

“My dad works near the Garrison,” The pimple-faced kid at the register piped in. “He says a couple guys were in his shop last week talking about weird chatter on the comms. I bet they’re gearing up for something big.”

Weird chatter? Well, that was interesting. Keith turned his attention to the cashier, curiosity piqued. The kid went on.

"I bet there's something going on, I bet they know something that we don't."

Keith grunted at that. The kid was probably one of those conspiracy theorists or something. Probably wore a tin-foil hat or some shit like that when he wasn't working. Still, it would be worth checking it out. Keith suspected it would be easy enough to cobble together some sort of receiver. See if he couldn't get close enough to patch into the Garrison comm waves and---

“If you ask me, that place ought to be shut down,” The first woman began as she turned toward her friend. “After that mess with that failed mission a few months back we should be questioning what's going on up there. "

Heat flashed up Keith’s spine. His skin prickled and tightened. He could feel himself starting to react. Ahead of him, the two women were oblivious. The friend made a soft sound of agreement.

"Oh totally." She said. "That poor woman, losing her son and her husband like that because of a cocky, under-qualified pilot. Tch."

Keith's mouth was moving before he could stop it. “You stupid bitch, would you just shut the fuck up already?” he snarled.

Three sets of eyes snapped in Keith's direction. But the damage was already done, the trajectory of the crash already plotted. Keith slammed the frozen dinner boxes he’d been holding onto the counter. The cardboard and plastic in the bottom-most box exploded. Frozen corn to scattered across the belt. Keith bent into the first woman’s space, pointing an accusing finger at her face.

“You don’t know shit about shit.” He told her.

The woman sputtered in shock. Her eyes widened in fear. Keith bristled and straightened out. He took a breath, feeling his nostrils flare with the effort to calm himself. The kid behind the register had recovered and was calling for security. Keith had to get out of there.

Shoving past the two women, he stormed outside. The cool, early evening air was like a slap in the face after being in the climate-controlled store. For a moment the temperature shift was a little disorienting. Keith missed the curb as he stepped off it, and stumbled. He almost fell right on his face. He recovered quickly, but the mishap only spurred on his need to get out of there fast. To go.

Keith hurried to where the hoverbike was parked. His hands were shaking as he fumbled with his helmet and jammed it onto his head. The thick collar of Shiro’s old jacket got fetched up in the padding, and Keith cursed as he fought to tug it free. He struggled for a moment, helpless and feeling as though he was flying apart at the seams. Keith gave up fussing with the coat and jumped up on the bike instead. He was gone in seconds, peeling off down the road and finally out into the desert at break-neck speed.

Shiro would’ve been so disappointed.

Shiro would have told Keith to stop, to slow down and to breathe. Then he would have gently chided Keith for being so rude. He would have reminded Keith to try to do better next time. Then he would have smiled like it was no big thing. Too bad Shiro was dead and had been dead for exactly nine months and fourteen days. He would never scold Keith about anything ever again.

Rage clawed at Keith’s throat, making him reckless as he blazed through the sand. Grit flew up in his face, pinging across the visor of his helmet. It only spurred Keith to push the bike to go faster and further.

Fuck them all. What did they know about it? What did _anyone_ know about it?

Anger, white-hot and poisonous had Keith twisting the controls. He pushed the bike to go even faster. Ahead was a large boulder, and Keith swerved around it at the last possible second. His belly swooped, and the resulting spike of adrenaline was almost satisfying in a sick sort of way. Keith spied another large rock coming up quick and steered toward it. Up and over the top, Keith cleared the obstruction easily. His stomach twisted again with the rush of it. Smirking, he glanced back for a split second to eye the large boulder with glee.

It was a mistake.

When Keith turned back to the path ahead, he realized there was no time react. The bike shot out into empty space, the ground beneath it gone. For a second there was nothing. Just the blue, blue sky and weightlessness. Time slowed and stilled and for the span of several heartbeats Keith felt...Free. His mind was still and clear. The setting sun was warm on his face, and relief spilled out of him like an infected wound that had been lanced.

Then, Keith was falling.

There was no time to panic. The ground was rushing toward Keith at an alarming speed. Animal instinct and the need to survive had him twisting at the controls. Seconds before smashing into the ground, Keith kicked his heels back hard on the shift pedals. It redirected the flow of energy and cushioned the fall. To a degree anyway.

The bike lurched as the housing for the hover-blades groaned ominously. Keith wrenched the bike around, knowing in an instant that he had over-corrected. He shouted out a stunned curse as he lost control of the bike. The bike skidded across the sand, twisting and spinning in sickening circles.

Keith managed to hold on for several rotations. But then the world twisted on its side and the bike rolled. There was an explosion of grit and sand, and Keith cried out in alarm as he was tossed through the air. The impact, when he landed, punched the air from his lungs.

Wheezing, eyes widening in panic, Keith gasped for air. His lungs refused to fill and for several long seconds Keith stared up into the sky. Finally, finally, the breath came back to Keith’s body and he rolled onto his side gasping. Pain exploded along his ribs where he had slid across the hard-packed earth. Inside the helmet, Keith's ears were ringing.

Stunned, Keith pinched his eyes together. When the world stopped spinning, he rolled onto his back. Above him was a bright, cloudless banner unfurling into perfect shades of blue. Oranges and yellows were just starting to muddy the color toward the west. It was like drops of watercolor bleeding through on wet paper.

Almost it seemed unreal. Keith blinked, his eyes wet behind the visor of his helmet. The stars would be out soon, a few hours at most.  For a moment Keith thought he might stay where he had fallen and wait for them. But there was an insistent something telling him to get up. To get moving. To _live._

It made Keith think of Shiro; of how angry he would be if he knew what had happened and of how reckless Keith had been.

Grunting, Keith hauled himself upright. He stumbled over to the bike and struggled to right it. It didn’t look too worse for wear and Keith sobbed in relief with it managed to start. He took a minute to ensure the navigation system was still operational, then turned in the direction of the shack.

It was slow going. The hover pads were not getting the proper output or conversion so the bike limped along through the desert. Each jarring lurch caused Keith to flinch and curse in pain as his body was tossed about. By the time he reached the shack it was full dark and the stars had indeed come out.

Keith bumbled up the steps of the small porch and staggered inside. In the dark, he tripped over a pile of magazines on the floor. Hands-first Keith pitched into the low table near the couch. The top of it tipped up and off its cinder-block supports and sent everything on it flying. Keith cursed and sat up. He tugged off his helmet and chucked it aside.

“Jesus fucking-- Goddamnit,” Keith muttered, searching for his battery powered lantern in the dark. Once located he flipped it on and sat for a moment to collect himself. Then Keith started cataloging his hurts.

Apart from the pain along his ribs and a massive headache, Keith didn't think he was that bad off. The jacket that he had been wearing though, Shiro’s jacket, was in shreds along the side. The thick, soft material was ripped and pocked with holes from where he had tumbled through the dirt.

Tears stung Keith’s eyes as he pulled the garment off and flung it aside. It lay on the floor like an accusation. Guilt clawed at Keith’s insides, and after a moment he stood and hobbled over to where the jacket was to pick it up. There was no fixing it so Keith folded it up and took it to the bedroom where he jammed it into the back of the closet.

Keith ignored the tightness of his throat. He could feel sorry for himself later. He had more pressing concerns to attend to. Making his way into the bathroom, lantern in hand, Keith pulled out the first-aid kit. He set both it, and the light aside and carefully pulled off his shirt.

The skin below wasn’t as damaged as he thought it was. It was abraded and red. By tomorrow Keith knew he was going to have a truly spectacular bruise there. That his ribs hurt like a son-of-a-bitch was a fairly good indicator. Nothing seemed broken though, so Keith was satisfied with that. He swallowed several pain killers dry and frowned at himself in the mirror.

"Way to be a massive fuck up, Kogane," Keith told himself. Then he grabbed the instant cold pack from the first aid kid and made his way back out into the living room.

Sinking down into the cushions of the couch, Keith scowled. Pain radiated out along his side, and after a moment he snapped the cold pack and pressed it to the worst of the damage. Under his sternum, Keith’s chest began to ache as well. He closed his eyes and drew in a long breath.

“...I know, I know. I'm sorry. I keep messing it all up. ” Keith said finally. Though he wasn’t quite sure who he was even speaking to. He shifted, laying down carefully on his good side. Eventually, Keith drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

 

 

 

When dreams came, Keith was chasing something through the desert. It wasn't unlike flying, with the world rushing past in a blur of muted grays and browns. The thing that Keith was following, whatever it was, lit the sky like electricity and sparked as zipped through the sand.

Through the rocks and down over the cliffs. Through valleys and along dried-up river beds. It twisted and turned and Keith pursued it through the odd twilight of the dreamscape. On and on it went until the light came to a sudden halt amidst the jagged, craggy formations of a rocky canyon. It seemed familiar somehow. But before Keith could get his bearings the light, blue and electric, pinged away. It had all but disappeared into the rocks before Keith thought to follow.

“Wait!” He called out, willing his dream body to just fucking move.

The response, when it came, thundered like a waterfall. It vibrated through Keith’s skull like a deluge and he dropped to his knees, clutching uselessly at his ears.

_They’re coming. Find me, find me, find me, find me..._

***

 

 

It was a whole week before Keith had the proper parts to fix the hover bike. He felt much better, though his side was a study in shades of black and blue. His dreams, for the most part, had been the same. Night after night, the pull, and the voice. He almost longed for the blood and the killing.

Keith knew what he had to do. He had to go to the place where his dreams were guiding him. He had to follow the pull of the voice and find what it was that he was meant to be looking for. It seemed a little odd, okay it seemed fucking crazy but...

Keith was so sick of seeing lights every time he closed his damned eyes. He had to go, he had to know if there was anything there or not, and more importantly if it was _real_. So one afternoon he hopped onto his hoverbike and chased the path he'd been seeing in his sleep. It didn't take long for Keith to start to recognize his surroundings. The light had been leading him the same way every night for a week now. Even so, Keith was a little surprised when he reached the craggy canyon to find it exactly as it was in his dreams. He slowed the bike to a halt and hopped down.

“Okay, I’m here. Now what?” Keith demanded.

Nothing. Just an eerie sort of stillness. Keith wasn’t sure if he had really been expecting any sort of answer. He cast his gaze around his surroundings, mouth curling into a frown. This was the point where, in the dream, the light always bounced up into the rocks and disappeared. Keith's guts churned with an excited sort of apprehension. He moved toward the tumble of boulders and started to climb. There had to be something here. There just had to be.

The exploration was slow going. Without proper climbing gear, and still tender from his spill on the bike, Keith was forced to take his time. He didn't find anything until he hauled himself up onto a flat ledge and discovered a shallow cavern.

Hesitating only long enough to dig a small flashlight out of his belt pouch, Keith ventured inside. The air was still and stale. The dust that Keith kicked up with his feet swirled in motes around him. He stepped forward, flicking the light from the floor to the back of the cavern.

In the dimness, Keith almost missed it at first. The buttery, yellow illumination of the flashlight was casting odd shadows on the walls and it wasn't until Keith neared the back of the cave that he noticed something... Extraordinary. He approached carefully, squinting in the dark, trying to decipher what it was he was seeing.

On the cave wall, etched in fading pigments, were _lions_.

Keith’s breath caught in his throat. Without conscious thought, he reached out to brush his fingertips across one of the smaller creatures. The lines of it were a deep, rusty shade of red. It looked like the color of blood. Keith's skin buzzed, electric as a strange sensation zinged up his arm and rooted itself deep in his chest. It burned and burned and _burned_. The voice, loud as ever, vibrated through Keith’s skull.

  
_Find me... They’re coming._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Err hey, guys. I finished chapter 9? :D? I actually had a really hard time with the end of this chapter, which is why it took so long. I got stuck, but managed to power through it. Anyway, enjoy a super long chapter filled with angst and bro-ventures? Also, the draft for chapter 10 is actually 100% done. I just need to type it up and edit :D! We're getting close to the home stretch now. Thanks for sticking with me :) 
> 
> Also trigger warning for some not so graphic violence. 
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr @Inkfishie

 

 

In the sky, the sun was a blaze of color. Unlike Earth, the sunset on the new Vyjni home planet was a startling gradation of deep scarlets and yellows. It had been hours since Keith had fled from a bewildered Coran. Truth be told, Keith was starting to feel guilty about it. Shocked as Keith had been, there had been no reason for him to leave Coran in the lurch like that. Not to mention the others, who at this point, were probably worried sick.

There had been a persistent, intrusive prodding at the edge of Keith's awareness for a while now. The bond he shared with the others was humming and vibrating with concern. Red, who had felt it as well, had even tried to bully her way into Keith's mind. Frustrated, and perhaps a little selfishly, Keith had closed them all out. He could barely sort through the tangle of his own emotions, how the hell was he supposed to contend with what everyone else was feeling?

But being alone with his thoughts did nothing to ease the steady ache under Keith's breast bone. In fact, the longer Keith kept to himself, the more painful the sensation became.

"Why does everything always have to be so damned complicated?" Keith asked out loud as he pulled a clump of grass up by the roots, then chucked it aside.

Red, a distant figure in the back of Keith's mind, growled in annoyance. She offered no insight, but Keith got the impression that she was displeased. Keith groaned in dissatisfaction and hauled himself to his feet. He probably ought to get back to the castle. It was going to be dark soon, and without armor, he didn't really want to brave an alien wilderness on his own. There was going to be a mess waiting for Keith when he got back to the castle. A big fucking mess. Keith wasn’t looking forward to dealing with it but he knew he had to face it. The sooner, he decided, the better.

The trip back went a lot quicker than Keith would have liked. As he maneuvered the speeder into the docking bay, apprehension tightened in his belly. The vast space, which had been housing the Lions for repair, was largely empty. That meant the others were probably out searching for Keith right now. Red poised on one end of the hangar, watched Keith despite her eyes being dark. Reaching out, he felt a wave of disapproval from his Lion. She was still angry it seemed, and Keith eased away with a sigh.

Powering down the speeder, Keith hopped to the floor and was a little surprised when he noted that Blue was there as well. Though she did not move, she looked as though she was lying in wait. For what, Keith wasn't sure. He watched her carefully, and something stirred deep in the recesses of Keith's thoughts. He took a step in Blue's direction without intending to.

Red _growled_. Hot and sharp it seared through Keith's mind like a warning. Taken aback, he whipped his head in Red's direction. She hadn't moved, but her eyes were alight; lambent and dangerous. Confused, Keith stared at her. A thought was starting to take shape in Keith's mind. A question really, that seemed to come from outside himself. Caught between the two lions, Keith swung his gaze toward Blue.

"He was your Paladin. You were with him. You know what happened." He observed as if testing a theory.

In Keith's mind, Red snarled. She reached toward him, trying to coerce Keith into giving the idea up. But he _couldn't_. Not now. No matter how much Red wanted to protect him, he just couldn't. Keith pushed her away with all the strength he could muster.

"Just stop!" Keith shouted, angry now. "I need to do this, I need to know!"

Red vibrated furiously. She was only trying to spare Keith whatever hurt was waiting for him at the other end of the truth. He couldn't fault her for that. Keith would have done the same were their positions reversed. But it didn't change the fact that Keith needed answers. It didn't change the fact that there were too many questions squirming under Keith's skin.

"It'll be fine, Red," Keith assured though he didn't feel confident in slightest.

Red's annoyance was cut by an undercurrent of covetous affection. It was intense, but Keith felt warmed by it. Red lingered a few ticks longer, then she withdrew. It left Keith alone in his own head. He pulled in a steadying breath as the tension went out of his body. Feeling much steadier on his feet, Keith continued to move toward Blue. She regarded him with open curiosity as Keith approached. When he was close enough, Keith thrust out a hand and set it against her massive forepaw.

"Errr, Hey," He began, at a loss.

The Blue Lion didn't stir. Or at least, Keith didn't feel it. Wary, he reached toward her in the way he would Red, but There was nothing for Keith to catch ahold of. Blue was like dappled sunlight refracting off the surface of a pond. Skittering and swirling away, she evaded Keith easily. Again, he tried to find her but again came away with nothing.

"C'mon," He implored, frustrated. "I just want to talk to you. I need to ask you something."

When there was no response, no sense that she was even listening. Disappointment welled up inside of Keith. He frowned and turned aside to slump against Blue's paw. This wasn't going to work. Keith fumbled toward his own Lion, only to find himself shut out with a succinct growl.

" _Fine_ , okay! I get it!" He snapped at the two lions.

If they didn't want to help then fine. Just fucking fine. Biting his lip, Keith curled into himself. His stomach twisted with hopeless defeat. Abruptly, his throat tightened. He hated the thought of being so close to some sort of answer and not being able to just close the damned gap to get it. There had to be a way to figure this out, a way to make the Lions understand just how important this was; how _vital_.

"Oy, Mullet! There you are! We've been looking all over for you!"

Jerking upright, Keith swung his head in the direction of the voice. It was Lance. Of course, it was Lance. Blue was still in the castle after all. Keith wasn't sure why he hadn't put two and two together before now. He watched as the other paladin approached, noting Lance's frown. Their eyes caught, and for a second it seemed like Lance might spit out one of his usual barbs. Instead, he offered Keith a tepid smile.

"Hey, you okay? You ran off and left Coran. Everyone's out looking for you, we were worried." He said.

Keith didn't respond immediately. He wasn't sure how he felt. If Keith were to be totally honest with himself, he found that he was still angry at Lance. Irrational and childish as it was, Keith still blamed him for the turn things had taken. This had, after all, all started the day that Keith had noticed Lance's color brushed across Shiro's skin.

It was an awful feeling, Keith decided. But he wasn't sure which was worse: Resenting Lance over something beyond his control, or knowing that it wasn't Lance's fault and still being shitty about it.

"..Why do you guys even bother with me? I'm such an asshole, I've been an asshole for days now." Keith replied at length.

One of Lance's brows shot up at that. Then he reached out to set a hand on Keith's shoulder. "Yeah, well I won't argue with you on that one… But you're _our_ asshole, so whatever. It's fine." Lance said with an easy shrug

Despite himself, Keith smiled. It really wasn't fine, but Keith was glad that Lance was willing to give him a pass. Especially since Keith knew he didn't deserve it. Lance was smiling though, and just like that, the tension between them was gone. Lance gave Keith's shoulder one last squeeze then broke off to slouch against Blue's paw as well. When he tipped his head in Keith's direction, his expression was curious.

"So, like, what happened anyway? Coran mentioned he was telling you about the lions and the other paladins and bonds and stuff and then you got upset and took off," Lance asked, tone casual.

Keith's smile faltered a bit and he shrugged. He still hadn't fully processed what Coran had told him and he didn't really want to share with anyone just yet either. Keith was still puzzling out how to reply to Lance when he was interrupted.

"Does this have anything to do with that fight you're having with Shiro?" Lance questioned. His posture might have been casual, but his gaze was sharp. "Hunk mentioned that you guys were having a _thing_ or whatever. Explains why he was all worked up when Coran told us what happened. You should've seen his face, man. It was scary."

Baffled, Keith could only sputter in response. " _What_? No! We're not fighting." He returned immediately, a bit on the defensive. "What makes you think we had a fight? Was he pissed because I ran off?"

Lance, unconvinced, arched a suspicious brow at Keith. “I dunno, man. You tell me.”

Frowning, Keith scrubbed his fingers through his hair and tried to ignore how hot his face felt. Did everyone fucking know what was going on now? Sourly, Keith glowered at Lance.  "This thing with Coran has nothing to do with Shiro," Keith pronounced with a grunt.

Lance was silent. His expression spoke volumes, however, and it said that he didn't believe Keith for a hot minute.

Keith wrinkled his nose. "Okay fine!" He snapped. "It maybe has a _little_ to do with him, but…"

"But what?" Lance pressed, looking far too smug.

Keith, backed into a corner by his own confession, made an inarticulate sound. He threw up his hands in dismay. "But nothing!" He told Lance.

Lance, the cheeky bastard that he was, flashed a grin. "Oh _really_?" He asked as he lurched upright. He turned so that they were face-to-face, then bent to lean in close. "That's not what Hunk and Pidge said."

Keith gurgled out an affronted noise. His heart hammered in his chest and it hurt a bit, but only just a bit. Keith fought the urge to rub the spot. _Damned dirty Traitors,_ he thought. "What did they tell you?" He demanded in a rush.

Lance's grin widened a fraction. He straightened up and folded his arms across his narrow chest. "Nothing that wasn't already obvious. You're not very subtle, my dude."

"That's it. You're all dead and I'm starting with you first. Consider this your lucky day," Keith shot back, equal parts irritated and embarrassed. He glanced up to find that Lance's expression hadn't changed. Keith's ears burned hotter. "Jesus fucking--- Can we just _forget_ about Shiro for like two seconds? Please? I need your help with something else."

That wiped the stupid smirk right off Lance's face. It was a little satisfying, Keith decided, seeing Lance so flummoxed. He was still gawping like a fish when Keith kicked out a foot to jam the toe of his boot into one of Lance’s sneakers.

"Well?" Keith pressed.

Lance blinked. He set his hands on his hips and bent forward to squint at Keith. "...You want my help?"

Keith rolled his eyes. "Isn't that what I just said?"

"Well, yeah, but," Lance began as he frowned suspiciously at Keith. "When do you ever ask for my help?"

Lance did have a point there. The two of them did have their challenging moments. But it was _much_ better now. In the beginning, there had barely been a conversation that hadn't ended in a fight. Now, they were friends. Even if they did occasionally have a squabble or two.

"I need you to ask Blue about something, she's not responding to me," Keith said at length.

Lance rose a brow at that. For a second it seemed to Keith that he might refuse. He looked as though he were trying to puzzle something out. Then, much to Keith's surprise, Lance gave a little shrug.

"Okay. Sure. What do you wanna ask her?"

"I need to know about the former Blue Paladin," Keith admitted, voice quiet. The change in tone was plain. Hard as it was for Keith to ask for help, revealing more was like giving up a piece of himself. He plowed on, resolute. "Look. I know it sounds crazy, but Coran was telling me about him and I think-- I think maybe he was my father."

Saying it out loud was strange. It made it seem more real somehow. Something prickled along Keith's awareness, familiar and foreign all at once. It left Keith's stomach squirming with anxious anticipation. It rushed along his skin, causing it to erupt into gooseflesh. Keith shivered in response, wondering what the hell had just happened. Lance, for his part, was watching Keith expectantly. He looked as though he were trying to decide if this was some sort of joke. When Lance decided it wasn't, his eyes widened.

"What?" Lance demanded, and then: "No fucking way, man!" He exclaimed, awed. He pushed forward, grabbing Keith by the shoulders. Nose to nose now, Lance went on. "Are you serious? Really?"

Keith squirmed, making a startled nose as he tried to shove Lance away. "Argh, _Lance_! C'mon! Get off! "

Undeterred, Lance went on. "Oh man, that's so crazy! How long have you known? Was he as good as me? What was his form did his bayard take? Wasn't the last paladin Altean?" He questioned, rapid fire. Then, making a sudden realization, Lance reeled away. He looked positively scandalized. "Holy shit, you're a quizznacking alien! I always knew that mullet wasn't made of Earth stuff! What about Shiro?! Does he know that his lover boy is--"

"Lance, _please_! Just shut the hell up!" Keith begged, interrupting Lance mid-stream.

Keith was starting to feel a little overwhelmed. His own questions were still a tangled knot in his head. Having Lance's crowded in there as well did nothing to help the situation. Keith was still no closer to figuring any of it out than he was before. Growling in frustration, he bent forward to scrub his fingers through his hair. When Keith angled his head in Lance's direction he found the other boy was watching him, expression soft and sympathetic.

"...You've got some serious problems, man." Lance pointed out, not unkindly.

Keith puffed out a distressed little laugh. "Yeah. Tell me about it."

Lance's mouth quirked up into a small smile. He turned his body, slotting in beside Keith so that he could sling an arm over Keith's shoulder. Instead of squirming away from the embrace, Keith leaned into it, comforted by the closeness. If Lance was surprised, he said nothing. After a moment Lance nudged Keith with a bony hip.

"I could talk to my Baby Blue if you'd like," He suggested. "She might be able to answer some of your questions."

Something like hope unfurled inside of Keith. It eased some of the pressure in his chest. Nodding, he rubbed at his sternum. Lance, meanwhile, shot a hand out to ruffle it through Keith's already messy hair. Not for the first time, Keith realized he'd been a complete ass and to Lance in particular.

"Thanks, Lance. Sorry for being so… _Me_ lately. " Said Keith sincerely.

Lance simply offered up a lopsided grin and waved Keith off as he clambered up atop Blue's paw. Once there, he sat down with his long legs folded up beneath him.

"Yeah, yeah. It's fine Keitheyoni. We're buds, so... It's cool." Lance said as he gestured for Keith to come up. "Anyway. You're emo enough as it is. We need to do something to turn that frown upside-down. Too much emo destroys emo... Or some shit."

Keith rolled his eyes. But he smiled as he climbed up to join Lance atop Blue's paw. "That sounds like a line from a terrible 90's movie."

"It probably is, my dude," Lance returned with a sage nod. He gestured at the empty spot in front of him. "Now sit."

Keith did as he was told, drawing closer to sit in front of Lance who had adopted a classic meditative pose. Keith rolled his eyes as he mirrored it. "Is this really necessary?" He asked, slumping forward a bit.

Lance wrinkled his nose. "This is how Blue and I talk," Lance shot back with a frown. He pinched his thumb and forefinger together and waved his arms at Keith. "C'mon. We're waiting on you, Mullet."

Keith blinked, incredulous as he eyed Lance.

Lance heaved a loud, melodramatic sigh and dropped the pose. "What?" He demanded.

"Nothing," Keith said with a shrug. When the other boy began to scowl, Keith huffed out in exasperation. " _Fine_. It just seems weird. Red and I don't usually do all this...Wooowooo crap."

"Woowoo crap?" Lance asked, tone bland.

Scowling, Keith felt his face go hot. For some reason, it felt like Lance was making fun of him. "All that mystical bullshit," Keith clarified. "You don't need any of that, you can just talk to her in your head like how we're talking now."

" _Talk_ ," Lance said finally as he arched a brow. "In my head. To a giant magical lion robot. Nothing woowoo or mystical about that."

"Well, when you put it like _that_!" Keith shot back, pinning Lance with a sharp look.

Lance grinned a wide, toothy grin. It seemed that he was only teasing and that took the wind right out of Keith's sails. His irritation spilled away like a fistful of sand and Keith smiled a little as well.  

"Ass," Keith remarked.

Still grinning, Lance held out his hands. "Blue says it'll be easier to reach you through me. She says she doesn't want to upset Red, I guess she's being a little territorial right now." He explained.

"A _little_? That's the understatement of the year,” Keith snorted and reached for Lance. He twisted their fingers together. “Should I concentrate or close my eyes or meditate or something?"

Lance shook his head. He tightened his grasp on Keith's fingers. "Naw, just connect with me like we do when we're forming Voltron. I'll do the rest."

In theory, it was easy enough. Though since his conversation with Coran, Keith had walled himself up pretty tight. But the desire to finally get some answers was stronger than Keith's hesitance to open up. Closing his eyes, he turned his focus inward. Bright against the backdrop of his mind, Keith visualized the connection between himself and the others as a whorl of colored threads. They spun and twisted together in a helix that Keith himself was tangled in. He probed through the swirl of color, searching for Lance amongst the individual strands.

Pidge was there, a shining spark of curiosity and annoyance. Hunk was warm and friendly, radiating his concern with a gentle nudge. Allura, harder to find, skirted the edge of Keith's awareness as if she held herself apart. Keith dug a little deeper, reaching for Lance but finding Shiro instead. It was like a circuit connecting and completing itself. Jarring, and electric, worry buzzed through the current the two of them made. Worry, relief and something sharp and painful that Keith didn't understand. He shivered against it, unsure of what to make of it.

Keith drew away gently, apologetic as he eased Shiro aside. The circuit broke and Keith's chest thumped with the same hollow ache that was always there. He found Lance's thread and fumbled toward it. When they finally did manage to connect it was like coming up for air after a long, deep, dive. Playful and teasing, Lance radiated close, familial affection. A little stunned, Keith opened his eyes.

Instead of the hangar, he found himself in a vast, endless sky. Overheard a spray of a million stars illuminated a twilight canvas. Offset by twinkling planets and milky clouds of twisting nebulas, the whole of it was reflected twofold by a ground that was more mirror than it was solid. Keith gasped, struck dumb by the sheer beauty of it.

"Took you long enough!" A familiar voice called.

Keith turned toward Lance and was shocked by what he was seeing. Lance was _glowing_. The whole of him was a blaze of sparkling, shimmering color that reminded Keith of balmy tropical waters.

"Oh," Keith breathed, astounded. It was amazing.

Lance grinned as he turned a little circle. He was all light and twinkling shades of ocean blue. "I know! Right?"

Embarrassed, Keith glanced away. There was no hiding what he felt here, and it tickled along the connection he had with Lance before Keith could stop it. Lance stilled and shot Keith a gleeful little smirk.

"It's cool I won't tell Shiro that you were checking me out."

"Just shut up. You know it wasn't like that." Keith said with a snort. Then realizing something, held up his own hands to inspect them.

There was nothing. There was no blaze of light, no distinctive hue other than that of his own skin which gave off a vague illumination. It was a bit like a light bulb that was slowly burning out actually which was kind of sad and pitiful. Keith wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but for the space of a tick, he had hoped… Well, it was stupid anyway. Coran had explained it. If Keith truly were part Altean than this was just a quirk of his biology. Even so, Keith was still bitterly disappointed.

Lance, who had clued in on the fact that something was amiss, frowned at Keith. "Hey, you okay?" He asked. He was inspecting his hands, trying to puzzle out what was going on. He glanced in Keith's direction, then back down at himself. After a moment he finally put two and two together. "Wait, what? How come---"

"It's fine. I'm used to it. It doesn't matter." Keith interrupted, cutting Lance off before he could get any further. "Coran said that Alteans don't have colors the way humans do, so if I'm… It's fine. I just want to find out if it's true and..." Keith explained. He knew that Lance had heard the faint tremor in his voice though, and had felt his sadness.

Abruptly, Lance reached for Keith's hand. The touch illuminated Keith's skin, and for a moment the spot was suffused with light. It spread up Keith's arm, leaving the impression of Lance's color. Somehow, it eased the pulse of loneliness inside of him. Keith offered Lance weak smile.

"Blue says we should go this way," Lance said as he gave Keith's a little tug.

They started to walk, though toward what Keith had no clue. There were no discernible landmarks or breaks in the dream-like sameness to their surroundings. Keith wasn't even sure they were really moving. It felt a bit like having motion-sickness. Or vertigo. Strange and somewhat nauseating, Keith closed his eyes against the sensation. When Lance stopped suddenly Keith ran right into him.

"Easy," Lance scolded as he twisted around to give Keith a pointed look.

Keith frowned. "Do you even know where we're going?"

"Of course I do." Lance shot back. "Look over there!"

Opening his eyes, Keith peeked from around Lance's shoulder to inspect the space in front of them. It looked no different from their surroundings apart from the presence of a door. The door seemed to be floating in space which was strange as it was. That it had appeared from thin air was odder still. Keith moved away from Lance and stepped up to it. It looked like it belonged in the castle. Keith was about to punch the pad and go inside when Lance stopped him.

"You sure about this?" Lance asked. Worry creased his brow.

Keith nodded despite the way his guts churned with anxiety. "I have to do this. You know I do."

Lance frowned, then released Keith's arm. "It's your call, dude. But I'm going with you."

Fair enough.

Keith pressed the keypad and the door whooshed open. There was a shadowy sort of darkness waiting inside. Confused, he glanced back at Lance. The other boy shrugged. There was only one thing to do, so Keith took a breath and stepped inside. The dimness swirled around them, then resolved. It was total pandemonium.

As Keith had guessed they door belonged to a room in the Castle of Lions. They were in the docking bay, but they had entered in the midst of a fire-fight. It was a shock to see so many Alteans. They rushed and scrambled and shouted. Some ran for the fighter ships, while others bolted for escape pods. The castle had clearly taken heavy damage. Charred paneling hung off the walls, and pieces of conduit hung from the ceiling, sparking and spitting electricity. The exposed circuitry hissed and flashed and above the shouting and noise warning alarms blared out.

An Altean woman with pale, coral toned hair whipped by and Keith snatched Lance out of her way as she rushed past. Seconds later a booming explosion rocked the castle, and the sound of it almost knocked Keith off his feet. Lance grabbed at Keith’s arms, and the two of them fought to stay upright. Above, there was a hideous shriek of metal grinding against metal. Keith's gazed swerved upward, frantic as he looked for the source. Several hundred feet into the hanger, a glimmering piece of conduit erupted in a rainbow of sparks as it tore free of the ceiling and fell. Below Alteans were shouting, screaming in alarm as they scrambled to avoid the debris.

The woman with the coral hair was caught where she stood. Keith cried out in horror. He jerked his head aside and pressed it into Lance's shoulder seconds before the wreckage claimed her. Lance, who had turned away as well, puffed out a startled breath against Keith's ear.

"Keith, this isn't-- Can we go? Please, can we go?"

Around them, particles of dust and grit floated through the air. Voices rose up in panic and everywhere the Alteans were searching for their comrades amidst the destruction. Uneasy, Keith looked around. Lance was right. This wasn't what Keith had thought Blue might show them. There had to reason for it though. There had to be.

"Just hang on a sec, okay? This has to be important somehow," Keith pleaded.

Lance, straightening up, could only nod. His expression was slack, and no longer glowing, his face had gone pale. Dust coated his hair, and Keith wondered how that was even possible. Blue had brought them to an altered plane of reality outside of their own and was showing them her memories. How could it be that a memory could affect someone who existed outside of it? Curious, Keith was in the midst of reaching out to brush the dust from Lance's hair when the hangar doors burst open.

The figures who came through it were regal and imposing. Resplendent in their armor, they trailed their colors behind them. Their cloaks, like banners unfurling on a battlefield, swirled behind them as they strode into the chaos. Red, Blue, and Green. They looked more like knights of old than the current incarnations of the paladins of Voltron. Their armor was fashioned to match their king's. Battleworn, the white plate flashed under the pulse of the emergency lighting as the trio marched past. Lance grabbed at Keith's arm, his eyes were huge.

"Look," Lance said, voice hushed.

Keith drew in a breath, surprised at how suddenly small and insignificant he felt. These paladins, though there were only three, looked so noble and mighty. Like they had stepped right out of the pages of a book. The green paladin, who was nearest to where Keith and Lance stood, was slim and willowy. Fair haired and pale, their long, blonde hair was twisted back into an intricate, braided style. The stamp of Altean heritage was clear on their face, but Keith was unsure of whether or not the green paladin was male or female.

By contrast, the red paladin dwarfed her fairer companion. She was tall and svelte but muscular as well. There was a warrior's gait to her stride and something very martial about the way she comported herself. Her coloring was a shade of pale lavender, nearly white down the bridge of her nose. Curving around the apples of her cheeks were three slash-like markings in a darker violet. Her ears were pointed rather than fluffy and cat-like. Her hair boasted tones of red amidst the purple and was cut in a simple, shoulder-length style. Keith, who had never seen a Galran woman up close, was surprised. Beside him, Lance also made a soft, appraising sort of sound.

"She looks as cranky as you," Lance observed, trying for humor.

Keith rolled his eyes and jostled upright. He needed to get a better look at the third member of the party. Tall, with surprisingly long dark hair, Keith noted the scar on his brow and the turquoise markings. He also noted the square jaw covered in scruff and the broadness of the man's shoulders. There was no denying it. Despite the Altean features, the man that Keith was seeing was undoubtedly his father. Somewhere back on Earth in a dusty abandoned shack Keith had a photo to prove it. Keith's throat tightened and he took a step forward as the trio hurried by. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

"We have to…" Keith said, the words catching in his throat. Lance, sensing what Keith had meant gave Keith's arm a little tug.

"C'mon," Lance said. "Let's get closer. I wonder where they're going. What do you think happened to the others?"

"Alfor is probably flying the castle," Keith pointed out as they hustled after the small group. Ahead Keith watched as they came to a halt near Green.

"Yeah, but he was with Yellow, wasn't he?" Lance asked, scrambling around a large piece of detritus.

Suddenly there was a buzz of anxiety along the thread of Keith's bond with Lance. It left Keith's muscles tightening in alert and the hair at the back of his neck prickling up. “What?” Keith hissed, ready to attack.

Lance, looking suddenly small and bereft, stopped in his tracks. He turned to regard the scene of destruction that unfolded around them. "This is because of him, isn't it? This has to do with Zarkon and what he did to them." Lance asked as he turned toward the other paladins.

Keith, who had sensed it all along was quick to close himself to the rising tide of panic. "Lance, it's okay. We _knew_ this happened, we just didn't know how. We knew that he betrayed them." He pointed out.

Lance, still processing, took a breath. He looked aside and pinched his eyes shut, probably to refocus himself. When he glanced back up, Keith noted he looked a little more even-keeled.

 "It's still awful. When I think about it, and then when I think about _us_ I just…" Lance replied pensively.

"This won't happen to us." Keith broke in, fierce. "I won't let it, and neither will you. Or Hunk or Pidge or Shiro for that matter. We're going to be okay," Keith assured as he scuttled up over a pile of wreckage to get closer to Lance. "As long as we're together we'll be fine, okay?"

Lance frowned. Then his curled into a small, if not snarky smile. "I know it's bad when you're trying to give pep-talks." He said.

Keith snorted out a dry laugh as he thumped Lance on the back. “Yeah, well our pep-talker isn’t here right now so…” He pointed out with a shrug. After a tick, Keith glanced in Green's direction. "Shall we?"

Lance nodded. As a unit, they darted across the hanger and pulled up short of where the three paladins of old were in the midst of a heated conversation. They were just close enough to hear over the tumult of noise around them. The green paladin was speaking, and Keith noted a masculine lilt to their tone. He or she still sounded very young though, and Keith thought they probably weren’t much older than Lance or himself.

"Kira, what if Alfor was wrong? There has to be another way, we can't just give up! "

"We've tried everything, Nys. There's no other way, we must do as our king bids us!" The Blue Paladin shot back.

The accent was strange, but Keith thought the timbre sounded familiar. His gut twisted and he knew there was no mistaking it now. Keith was looking at his father. Confusion and hurt spilled out along the thread that connected Keith to Lance.

"You okay?" Lance asked, voice soft and understanding.

Keith hummed out quietly. Now that he knew, Keith felt oddly disconnected from himself. Numb, even. He turned his attention back to the trio nearby. Nys, the Green Paladin, was scowling. His or her face had suffused with color and it had darkened the mossy green markings on their cheeks. At Nys' side, the Galran woman shifted closer. Her attention was split between her two companions. She kept glancing between them as if engaged in a silent, secret conversation. Knowing what Keith did, he suspected they were. Suddenly, Nys' face crumbled into a stricken expression, betraying just how young they really were.

"We can't--There has to be--Kira, Essdra, please! I don't want to leave you! " Nys hissed out, low and terrible

"There's nothing we can do, dear heart." The Red Paladin, Essdra, said. Her voice was surprisingly gentle despite the low, smoky quality of her tone. She turned toward Nys and leaned in close to press their heads together. "You know we have no other option. We must do as commanded."

"But.." Nys returned, distressed. They glanced up, looking toward Keith's father.

The two Alteans locked eyes and the stillness they held the look for the span of several long moments. Then Kira reached out to pull Nys into a tight embrace. He held the Green Paladin as closely as one might a lover or a child. Or a part of themselves, Keith thought with a start. After a moment Kira pulled the woman, Essdra, into the circle of his arms as well.

The trio held one another for a time. But the scene felt strangely intimate. Like it wasn't something that Keith was meant to be watching. At Keith's side, Lance shifted, clearly uncomfortable. Finally, the three drew apart. They clasped one another by the forearms.

"Know who you are," Kira pronounced, voice firm. "Know who you are and know that I am with you."

"Fight fierce and fly true," Essdra said.

Nys, struggling, took a moment to compose themselves. "Until next time around then," They said, voice tight with emotion.

The trio shared a long, last look. Then, drifting apart, Kira spoke. "Good-bye, my dearest friends."

They parted ways. Nys drew away toward Green and waved as they disappeared into their lion. Essdra, sparing only a quick look in Kira's direction, went for Red. Kira lingered a moment. Then he turned and strode off toward Blue. Somehow Keith knew these three would never see one another again. And in a moment of shared awareness with Lance, Keith knew that only one these paladins would survive this separation.

It was a terrible realization. One that hit far too close to home. A horrible sadness welled up inside of Keith and he snatched out for Lance's hand to grip it hard. Lance squeezed back, sharing Keith's sorrow. But there wasn't time to idle. Keith pulled Lance in the direction Kira had gone.

"C'mon. We have to follow him." Keith pointed out needlessly.

They raced across the hanger. Keith's chest was aching again and he tried to compose himself as he and Lance approached Blue. Ahead, Kira was gazing up at his lion. There was something slumped and defeated about the way he was holding himself that made him seem more like a man, and less like the stuff of legends. It put Keith in mind of Shiro, and how he tried to carry the weight of the entire universe on his back. Frowning at the thought, Keith watched as his father pulled his shoulders back and became the Blue Paladin once more. Kira strode up the ramp that lead into his lion. He was silent and imposing. He stopped short though and Keith, arrested by the movement, stilled as well.

At Keith's back, Lance came to a clumsy halt. He pushed up against Keith to peer up the ramp. "What is it?" Lance asked, his voice hushed.

Keith wasn't sure, but something was happening. At the top of the ramp, Kira turned. Expression grim, his eyes seemed to pin Keith in place. Keith's pulse hammered in his ears, there was no way that his father was actually seeing him. Nevertheless, there was an eerie, voltaic, jolt that left Keith feeling as though something was crawling over his skin. As if there was some sort of presence trying to touch his mind. The understanding, when it came, shook Keith down to his bones.

He knew this feeling. He knew the shape of it and knew it had been with him all his life. It had called to Keith during those long, terrible nights after Shiro's disappearance when Keith thought he might explode and spill out stardust. It was cool water on a hot summer day. Somehow it was the echo of Keith's father through Blue. It put Keith at odds with himself and the picture that his childhood memories painted. He didn't understand.

"Dude, what's wrong? You're shaking," Lance pointed out as he gave Keith a little nudge. He sounded worried.

Keith couldn't respond. At the top of the ramp, his father finally turned aside and disappeared inside the lion. Like a marionette finally freed of its strings, Keith sagged where he stood. He dipped forward, forehead pressing the cool metal of the walkway. He felt cold despite the sweatiness of his skin. Lance, alarmed, attempted to haul Keith to his footing.

"Keith? Are you okay? Fuck. This is too much, man. You better be okay," He said as he tugged Keith along. "We have to _go_. Blue says we need to go with him."

Keith followed Lance up the ramp, despite the way his legs didn't seem to want to cooperate. When they reached the top, however, it wasn't the interior of the Blue Lion that they found. Instead, they stepped out into the living room of a tidy little house. The contrast was discordant after the chaos of the castle and Keith nearly fell as Lance dragged him inside.

Keith took a breath and the tang of freshly cut grass filled his nose. Calmer now, he took a look around.

Almost, it was familiar. Airy and delicate, the room they were in was done in cheerful pastels. The walls, a shade of creamy white, were bordered at the top with a narrow, floral paper. A plush sofa in pale sage green and matching chair dominated the room. Settled between the two there was a coffee table and a throw rug. The table was stacked neatly with several children's books and magazines. The windows, thrown open to let the breeze in, had checkered yellow curtains. They danced playfully in the wind offsetting the drone of a lawnmower outside. Down the nearby hallway, a radio was playing music.

"Where do you think we are now?" Lance asked in a hushed whisper.

Unsure, Keith could only shrug. "Dunno. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm cool," Lance affirmed with a nod. He still had dust in his hair. "What about you?"

"I'm cool for now," Was Keith's honest reply.

Outside the lawn-mower rattled to an abrupt halt. Over the sound of the radio, Keith could now hear the rhythmic chop-chop-chop of someone cutting something. He traded a look with Lance who was picking through the books on the table. Together they turned in the direction of the sound. Down the hallway a screen door banged open and shut, then the radio clicked off. Keith heard a soft murmuring of voices, then a woman laughed; Bright and merry.

The sound was so familiar that tears abruptly stung Keith's eyes. He took a step in the direction of the hallway, his feet clumsy as his lashes clumped with moisture. "Mom?" Keith called, the sound of his voice was strange in his own ears.

Further down the hall, a door creaked open. A woman's voice seemed to reply. "Keith, honey? Where are you?"

Keith's throat constricted. She wasn't talking to him, not really. But Keith wanted to see her, wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let go. Even if this was a just an echo, just a memory, she was _alive_ and Keith was so sick of having to say goodbye to everyone he loved. He stopped a few feet from the room that her voice had come from. Keith was ready to go inside but Lance's hand on his arm stopped him.

"What?" Keith demanded in an angry hiss.

"Just wait a sec," Lance returned gently.

Keith reined himself in. Lance made a grab for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Inside of the bedroom, Keith could hear his mother's voice.

"There you are, duckling! Did you have a nice sleep?"

There was a soft little voice that replied, muffled and sleepy. Keith didn't catch what was said, but he suspected that someone wasn't happy about being disturbed. Despite himself, Keith smiled. Inside of the room, there was a soft rustling. Then a figure appeared in the doorway. She was smaller than Keith remembered, though not as slight as he might have thought considering his own build. The fall of her fine, dark hair shielded most of her face but Keith could still see the curve of her cheek and the graceful line of her nose. Tucked into her shoulder there was a small head of dark hair. She was holding a child.

"Kira, I've got him. He fell asleep," Keith’s mother called out as she turned in the direction of the kitchen.

Lance craned closer, jostling Keith a little as he looked down the hall. "Woah, is that you? You're all little and cute," He said in a hushed whisper. "Dude, your mom is totally cute too."

Taken aback, Keith whipped his head in Lance's direction. "You can't even see me so can you fucking not? That's my _mom_ , dude."

"What?" Lance demanded, casual and unphased. "I think you look just like her. Well, I mean if she were taller and a dude. Your hotness totally comes from her. How come you never talk about her?"

Keith was having trouble focusing on two conversations at once. flustered now, he glowered at Lance. Keith had never exactly been the most forthcoming with regard to his own history. He knew Lance was just curious but it left Keith feeling a little defensive. He turned aside, trying to focus on what was happening down the hallway.

"Because I don't," Keith said waspishly. Then because he felt bad for snapping at Lance quickly added: "…She isn't around anymore. She died when I was ten. But I'm glad you think I look like her."

Startled, Lance blurted out an apology. "Shit, I'm sorry, Keith. I didn't know."

"Whatever, it’s fine. You didn't know," Keith said. And he meant it. He gave Lance's hand a little squeeze and offered up a conciliatory, albeit small, smile.

Down the hall, Keith's father had arrived. He looked much the same as he had in the castle, if not a bit older. The most notable difference, however, was the cropped hair and very human appearance. He leaned in close to his wife and child, kissing them both on the top of the head.

"Momma says you fell asleep, that right squirt?" He asked, speaking to his small son.

The child, making a sleepy little grunt, burrowed closer to his mother. It had Kira barking out an amused laugh.

"You shouldn't laugh at him," Keith's mother chided as she handed her son off to his father. "You know how he takes everything so seriously."

Scooping the child up easily, Kira cradled the boy close and smiled. "You know your Pops isn't really laughing at you, right, Keithey? He just thinks you're the sweetest little thing, that's all."

Then Keith's father was attacking the little boy with kisses. In Kira's arms, the child squealed out a laugh and tried to wriggle away. It was strange to be the spectator in such a happy little moment. Before Shiro or any of the others had come along, there wasn't a time where Keith hadn't felt sad, or tired, or alone. He couldn't remember being this carefree or this loved. Keith didn't remember any of this at all.

Down the hallway, the squealing and the laughter had stopped. Confused, Keith watched as Kira's smile faltered and drew into a frown. He was drawing a thumb across his son's cheek almost wistfully.

"Keith, we talked about this." Kira scolded gently.

"He doesn't do it on purpose," Keith's mother interjected. "I think sometimes it just happens. He doesn't know how to control it yet."

"I know, but it's dangerous," Kira returned. "If someone were to see..."

 _See_? See what? Keith craned closer. He burned to know what his parents were discussing but was suddenly afraid to get too near. Keith's fingers tightened reflexively around Lance's

"It's fine, Kira. He's still just a little boy. He'll learn to control it eventually," Keith's mother went on.

"I'm not little. I'm four!" A little voice piped in, small but indignant.

With a start, Keith realized he was hearing himself finally speak. He took a hesitant closer, watching as his parents began to fuss over their small son. They were arguing now, in that careful sort of way that adults often do when their children are present.

"As long as he learns, he'll be fine. If it's just us then what harm can it do, Kira?"

"I know, I know. But we can't take the risk. If they come--"

"--You said they wouldn't."

"I know but--"

"-- We just have to stick together, you said that. "

"I know but--"

"Then don't make him hide. Not here. Not with us. I love him just as he is."

Keith, heart pounding in his chest, didn't understand what he was hearing. His mother _knew_. Somehow she knew. She knew who and what her husband was, and what he was running from. But why, then, hadn't she said anything? Why had she kept the truth a secret?

"Fine," Kira agreed at length. The statement pulled Keith from his thoughts. "But only in the house with us." He said.

The little boy, sick of being held, wriggled in father's arms. He fussed and squirmed until eventually, Keith's mother held out her arms. "Here, give him to me. I'll get him ready for dinner. Go wash up, you've got grass in your hair."

Keith's father huffed out a soft, amused sound. He handed off his son, then pushed his fingers through his short hair. Bits of sweet grass flew from his scalp. Keith didn't care about that though. What he was focused on was the glimpse of color he saw as the little boy went into his mother's arms. The one ear that Keith could see, small and perfectly pointed, peeked from between the strands of child's messy, dark hair.

"Oh snap, you're--" Lance began.

Keith cut him off with a hiss. "Shhh, I'm trying to look."

"Dude, you're an alien. Like for reals," Lance went on. "You're like space Legolas. Only without the cool bow."

Scowling, Keith shot Lance a sour look. When he turned back in the direction of his parents, Keith noticed that their edges seemed to be blurring. Alarmed, Keith attempted to shrug away from Lance, only to have the grip on his arm tighten. Around them, the house was starting to fade away, the colors blurring and washing away like smoke.

"Lance!" Keith squawked as he tried to wrestle himself free. "What's going on? I'm not done yet!"

"Blue says we have to move on now," Lance replied. His voice was soft and serious and Keith didn't like it at all.

"But!" Keith cut in, desperate. "What about this? I want to see—He's got, I mean, I've got markings. I look Altean! Why don't I remember being like this? Lance, please, it's my _mom_."

Lance's expression crumbled. Sad and sick at heart, the thread between them vibrated with sympathy. It was almost too much so Keith pushed it away in a fit of pique. But he had felt Lance's misery and the deep pull of his homesickness. It wasn't fair for Keith to direct his misplaced anger at his friend. He pulled in a breath, focusing himself. As he did, Keith wondered how many fucking times he'd have to do this. He hated this, he hated saying good-bye. Mournfully, Keith looked back down the hall to where his mother was fading away. She was smiling. Keith fixed the image in his mind, then turned away.

Lance said nothing as they moved back toward the living room. By the time they had reached it, it was little more than the impression of an over-exposed photograph. The front door, dark by contrast, waited for them to open it. There was a moment of hesitation on Lance's part though. He turned toward Keith, his mouth pinched into a small frown. He seemed unsure of himself.

"...Are you sure you want to keep going?" He asked.

Keith's nod was immediate, despite the sudden sense of foreboding. "Yeah. I'm sure. I don’t remember any of this. I need to find out why."

"Okay," Lance said with a nod. He opened the door and pulled Keith through.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey guys, I'm back. Wanted to let you know that I updated the rating and the warning tags. This chapter is a little graphic as far as the violence and gore goes so I wanted to make you aware incase any of you are squeamish. 
> 
> Anyway, sorry not sorry? It'll get better soon, I promise :D 
> 
> Also we are so close to the finish line. Thanks for sticking with me :)

 

 

 

Keith wondered if there had ever been a time in his life where he had been truly happy. He knew that he had been very close once or twice, but that had been before everything had gone to shit. Still, there were times that Keith found himself caught in memories. He would recall the way that Shiro’s hair used to whip in the wind during a summer storm, or the shape of his boyish, daring grin as they raced through the desert together.

Keith ached to have it back, but he knew he had to move on. Tying his happiness to a ghost was pointless, he _knew_ that. But there were still days that he couldn't even pull himself out of bed. Days where the hours bled together in a static sort of sameness that left Keith wondering if two minutes had passed or two weeks. 

Exploring the caves helped, but after months of documenting the drawings inside of them and finding nothing, the novelty was starting to wear off. Sleeping for fifteen hours straight and staring at the ceiling of his little shack was becoming a habit and Keith was starting to get sick of it. Sighing, he rolled onto his side and grimaced. The cushions on the couch were lumpy and uncomfortable. Across the room, the massive tack board, cluttered with all the photos and maps and notes that Keith had accumulated, seemed to be judging him.

Keith snarled and rolled onto his back. The voice, pulsing behind his eyes like a headache, was relentless. He knew he ought to get up and get to work. But he was just so damned tired. He was tired of finding nothing and of being nothing. Keith was tired of just _surviving_ , he wanted to live again, but wasn't sure how. It had been like this for months now.

Ten months, to be exact.

Ten whole months since Keith had last heard Shiro’s voice. Ten whole months since the crew of the Kerberos mission had been lost. Ten whole months since Keith’s life had turned itself on its head. Not for the first time, Keith wondered what the term “lost” even meant. There had never been much of an official statement other than the one that declared the mission a failure due to pilot error. It was strange, Keith thought. A year ago he had been dreaming of exploring distant planets and renaming the stars. A year ago he had been studying for his exams and waiting for Shiro to come home so they could do it together.

“Ugh, this is so stupid,” Keith grunted. He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to drown out the drumming of the voice in his brain. When that didn’t work, Keith growled and twisted to bury his head in a pillow. “Can you just stop already? I’m doing my best!”

The response drummed in his head, loud and insistent:  _Find me, find me, find me._

Keith pinched his eyes shut and wondered if going crazy felt like this. He wondered if he already _was_ crazy.  Maybe all of it, the voice, the strange dreams, was a product of anxiety and stress. Maybe he’d fabricated every last bit of it in the fall out of his grief.

“You are so fucking stupid, Kogane,” He told himself. He opened his eyes and glowered at the tack board on the wall. “You have to get your shit together.”

Except when it really came right down to it, Keith didn’t want to. At least, not right away. He rolled away from the wall, angling his body to face the back of the couch instead. The voice could fucking wait. The voice, the caves, and the thing he was supposed to be finding, it could all fucking wait. Yanking his flimsy blanket up over his head, Keith shut his eyes. He’d work on it later, once his head didn’t hurt and the pounding ache under his sternum let up. He'd already slept a good twelve hours, a couple more wasn't going to hurt.

A couple more hours turned out to be seven.

By the time Keith woke from deep, blessedly dreamless sleep, it was dark. A cool breeze was coming through the open window and it ruffled Keith’s sweat-damp hair. He shifted on the couch, stretching his arms up over his head. The air felt nice, and Keith sighed happily as the wind blew across his face. Gradually, he became aware of a soft, static buzz. It pulled at Keith’s consciousness until he opened his eyes, confused by what he was hearing.

Across the room, the comm-wave scanner that Keith had purchased weeks ago, on impulse, was crackling out with spotty interference. The light on the front of it was blinding in the darkness. Keith squinted at it, puzzled and unsure of why the device was even on. Sitting up slowly, he rubbed at his eyes. In the stillness of the empty shack, the drone of the white-noise was almost comforting. Generally speaking, Keith didn’t get much on the thing. Chatter between passing truckers mostly. The communiqué he occasionally picked up from Garrison was limited and almost always related to the maneuvers that the cadets were practicing out in the desert.

Tonight, however, all was quiet. The static revealed nothing of note. Just pops and clicks interspersed with the occasional blip of high-pitched noise. Rubbing his nose, Keith hauled himself to his feet and moved across the room. On the scanner, the noises petered off into static. He was about to turn the device off when the pops and clicks started up again.

At first, Keith thought nothing of it. This far out in the desert, any signal was going to be weak. It was probably just a stray broadcast from a radio station that was miles away. Idly, Keith wondered where it might be coming from. He supposed he could chase it, head out toward Galaxy Garrison and set up shop near one of their receivers. It probably wasn’t worth the effort though. It didn’t even sound like much.

Except, the more Keith listened, the more it seemed as though there was some sort of pattern emerging from the static. A pattern that was repeating itself.

For a moment, Keith didn’t know how to react, or what it could possibly mean. His gut told him to move though, so Keith did. Scrambling for his laptop, Keith jammed USB cable connected to the scanner into one of the laptop ports and waited for the device to boot. Finally, the log-in screen popped up and Keith keyed in his password. As soon as the desktop loaded Keith clicked open the audio recording app. Distracted by Shiro’s smiling face saved to the desktop, he waited for the program to load.

Finally, it popped up and Keith clicked the capture button with more force than was necessary. On the scanner, the signal continued to repeat itself. Keith chewed at his lip as he listened, trying to parse out what it was he was hearing. It felt different from transmissions he’d intercepted in the past. It _sounded_ different. Garrison messages were not coded to sound like this. Keith knew that. The breaks, the pauses, and the way it was repeating was strange. Someone was trying to get a message across, though what that message was, Keith had no idea.

Eventually, the pops and clicks gave way to silence in the static. Keith listened, straining to hear something in the white-noise. “ _C’mon_ ,” He urged. “Keep going.”

When the message started to repeat itself, the fine hairs on the back of Keith’s arms stood on end.

He jumped to his feet, scrambling to get dressed in the dark. He had to get a cleaner recording and to do that, Keith would need to go where the signal was stronger. Jamming his feet into his boots, Keith wriggled into a dark hoodie. Then he was struggling to cram what he needed into his beat-up backpack. The message was still repeating on the scanner as Keith dove for his laptop. He clicked out of the recording program and found himself staring at the photo on the desktop.

“I gotta go,” Keith said out loud, talking to the picture perhaps. “Something’s up so I’m gonna see what it is.”

Shiro continued to grin on the computer screen. Keith’s mouth curled into a small, tight smile. Then he snapped the lid of the laptop shut and shoved the computer into his bag. He slung the bag over his shoulder and moments later Keith was out the front door, racing for his hover bike. He paused long enough to put on his helmet, then he was off.

Keith spent the next few hours up in the hills near Galaxy Garrison.

While he succeeded in getting a clean recording of the signal, that was about the extent of it. Listening in on the Garrison wave channel proved fruitless as well. Either they had written the disturbance off as white noise, or were choosing not to acknowledge it on the comms. Either way, Keith remained in the hills until the sun began to creep up over the horizon. It was only when the base below him began to stir that Keith sped off on his bike. He had gotten what he’d come for and the rest he could figure out after he got some rest.

Keith rode back to the shack, trying to puzzle out what he’d heard. After a short nap and a quick shower, he was finally ready to get some work done. Booting up his laptop, Keith opened the sound file and spent the next few hours transcribing it onto paper. He tried working it out as Morse code. Then took it a step further by trying to assign a numerical value to each letter in the Morse code alphabet. When that didn’t work Keith tried working it through in reverse.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t get very far with it. By the time the scanner started crackling the same message again, Keith was ready for a break. Packing up his things, he drove out to the Garrison again, hoping for some kind of break.

The break didn’t come for several days.

Holed up in the business center of a 24-7 truck stop a few mornings later, Keith was making use of the free Wi-Fi. He’d spent most of the night spying on the Garrison and had come up with absolutely nothing. Nursing a cup of strong, black coffee now, he was searching for ways to decode the signal he’d heard over the comms. When Google brought up one of those alien conspiracy message boards as a search result, Keith clicked it open just for the hell of it.

Most of the posts were junk. Weird lights over Canada, lost time along some rural highway in Utah, demon hunters in Kansas. Keith huffed out in disbelief as he scrolled through the posts. One, however, caught his eye. It was titled: “Static chatter on comms?”  Clicking it open, Keith skimmed through the posts.

 **Skychaser23** : _Hey, has anyone heard that weird static lately? It started a few days ago, and I noticed the noises repeat in a pattern. Any guesses?_

 **IWAnt2beLIEve:** _it’s totally aliens. they are cooooming, coming to get us all_

Keith rolled his eyes at that and continued to scroll through the thread. Most of the replies were similar. A lot of conjecture and no real answers. No surprise there, Keith had more or less decided that this would be a long-shot. Surprisingly, about halfway down the page, Keith’s interest piqued. An exchange between two of the users seemed slightly more useful.

 **GeophapsPlumifera:** _Does anyone have anything intelligent to add?_

 **YellowShirt_NCC1701D:** _I don’t think so, dude. What about you? I heard this on the comms a few days ago and have been trying to figure it out. Got a couple ideas but I’m totally not sure._

 **GeophapsPlumifera:** _Yeah? Same here. I’m going to message you so we don’t have to deal with all these troglodytes_

 **YellowShirt_NCC1701D _:_** _lol, sounds good, buddy. Lets trade notes :D_

 _Well_ , Keith decided, that sounded promising. Stuck as he was, this was the first real lead he’d had since recording the code. Clicking open a window for each of the two users, Keith sent them both messages asking about the pattern. It took a while to get a reply, but they both seemed to agree that the code was numeric in nature. The actual meaning of the numbers was something that they were still working on.

Sucking down the rest of his coffee, Keith printed the file that Geophaps graciously shared. It was a long sheet of numbers that was more gibberish to Keith than it was any sort of message. Never-the-less he tried his best to help figure it out. Several hours later, when the three of them still hadn’t come up with a damned thing, Keith decided to take a break. He said he good-byes and logged out. When he finally got back to the shack, Keith made a quick meal of some instant ramen and curled up on the couch. He fell asleep staring at the printed line of numbers.

 

The nightmare, when it came, was like sinking into viscous, black ichor.

It stifled Keith’s breath, filling his nose and lungs, causing him to cry out in panic. He tried to eel away from it, tried to claw his way to consciousness, but his limbs were too heavy. It dragged him down, down and down. It was like quicksand and the more Keith fought it, the more mired he became.

_It’s just a dream, you’re okay! It’s just a dream!_

Keith tried to cling to that thought, but the tang of sweat and fear was so pungent and real that he started to doubt himself. Caught in the thrall of the nightmare now, Keith was unable to escape. The muscles in his chest clenched at the realization, and he felt as though his ribs were being crushed. Terrified, Keith’s eyes snapped open. He found that he was strapped down to a large, metal table. Clustered around him were several tall, strange figures. They towered over him, leering from behind their odd, glowing masks.

Something terrible was about to happen. Keith could feel the buzz of apprehension and alarm tingling beneath his skin. He tried to calm himself, tried to tamp down the fear as best he could.

“This isn’t real,” Keith told himself firmly. “None of this is real! It’s just a dream. Get through it, _fight it_!”

Around him, the hooded figures cocked their heads to the side as if puzzled. The pain in Keith’s chest eased and he pinched his eyes shut. “It’s just a dream,” He continued to tell himself. “It’s just a dream, _it’s just a dream._ You’re okay.”

There was a rustling in Keith's ears and when he opened his eyes the masked creatures were gone.  Only one remained. Small and hunched under the weight of its long robes it approached. Face exposed, Keith could see the sharp, gaunt line of its jaw and nose from under its hood. It smiled as it drew closer, stretching the tight, lavender flesh around its mouth into a manic, terrifying grin.

“Well,” The creature said, its voice was low and raspy. “How interesting… Who do we have here?”

It prowled closer, regarding Keith with interested. Then, reaching out, it grabbed Keith by the arm. He recoiled violently, crying out in alarm. “No!” Keith howled. “Don’t you fucking touch me! _Stop_!”

But the creature held tight, curling its spindly fingers into the the flesh of Keith's arm. He could feel the claws digging into his skin, even as he railed against the straps that held him down. Cursing, Keith fought harder. The table jiggled and groaned as he threw himself at his bindings. Under the drape of its hood, the creature's glowing yellow eyes narrowed in consideration. Then it began to laugh. It laughed as the air started to crackle and pulse with strange violet light. It continued to laugh as a smell, acrid and sickening began to fill Keith's nose. Blind, animal panic overtook his senses. Keith _screamed._

Agony tore through his body, arcing up his arm like he’d touched a live-wire. He thrashed on the table, frantic and terror-stricken. Tears coursed down Keith's cheeks, choking him as he howled. Stomach clenching and twisting with nausea, the smell of cooking flesh filled his nose. The white-hot burning intensified, spiking up through Keith’s arm and into his shoulder. It seemed to go on for a lifetime, then finally there was a tingling numbness. The pain, less sharp now, throbbed in time to Keith’s racing heartbeat.

Dazed and trembling in shock, a dizzy rush of vertigo caught him. Keith wrenched his head to the side just in time to heave up a stream of slimy, yellow bile. It pooled on the table beneath his head, and whining out in misery Keith turned his head away from it. The pain, a living thing, was inescapable. He struggled to focus on making his lungs work, but Keith's breath caught on his tears.

“It’s a dream.” He croaked, voice low but determined. He shut his eyes, trying to will himself awake. “This is a dream! It _isn’t_ real.”

Keith opened his eyes slowly. He squinted up at the creature, feeling fuzzy and dazed. It was holding something in its clawed hand. Keith stared, unable to process what it was he was seeing. Sluggish, and in shock, his brain wasn’t firing correctly. Keith knew though. He _knew_. He didn’t want to know, he didn’t even want to _see_ it. Smirking, the creature chucked the thing it was holding aside. It hit the floor with a meaty sort of slap and Keith whined out, low and broken.

It was an _arm_. A severed, human arm.

The ruined flesh where it had been seared off was a blackened mess of gore and bone cut off just before the elbow. Nothing but meat now, it lay where it had fallen. The fingers, lifeless, were curled up toward the ceiling as if reaching for something. That the limb had taken other damage was also clear. The upper forearm was gouged as if by the claws of animal, and the flesh of the wrist was shiny and puckered as if melted off by a hot brand.

The sight was horrifying. Keith couldn’t take his eyes off of it. The more he stared at it, the more unsettled he became. Lungs tightening, a terrible keening sort sound rose in his throat. It pushed through the tight constriction of fear until there was nothing Keith could do to stop it. He felt lightheaded, unmanned by the rising tide of hysteria.

Keith began to thrash on the table, screaming in terror and rage. Agony radiated up his arm and into his chest. It _hurt_. It hurt so much that Keith felt like he was starting to unravel. Like the core of him was ripping apart at the very seams. Vision going spotty and black, Keith felt suddenly separate from himself. In the back of his mind something stirred, familiar and afraid.

Beside him, the creature bent forward, its thin lips stretching to reveal a line of sharp, white teeth.  “Ahh, so there you are, Champion,” It said, mouth curled into a sinister smile. “So good to have you back. Shall we see how else I can make the two of you scream?”  

“ _No_! You leave him alone!” A voice that both was and wasn’t Keith’s own shouted.

But the creature didn’t listen. It shoved its palm into Keith’s forehead and this time it felt like his very soul was flying apart. Stubbornly he clung to the tenuous thread of his awareness, but eventually found himself flung from the grasp of the dream. Careening back into wakefulness with all the violence and momentum of a train wreck, Keith came back to himself with a stifled shout.

The name on his lips was his own. But the voice who had been shouting it, who had been urging Keith to go, to run and to wake up was _Shiro_.

Keith jolted upright, bile rising in his throat. Wheeling off the couch he barreled toward the bathroom. Hitting the floor hard, Keith’s knees stung as he dropped down in front of the toilet. Nausea twisted his stomach and Keith vomited forcefully into the rust-stained bowl. When he was finished, he slumped down onto the floor, trembling.

Keith’s insides felt like they were on fire. There was also a tingling sort of numbness in his right arm as if he’d slept on it. Wriggling his fingers, Keith was relieved to find that they still worked. In fact, he was so relieved that tears stung the corners of his eyes. He wiped at them ineffectually and tried to calm the frantic beating of his heart. The tiles of the floor were cool against the feverish skin of Keith’s face and he pressed his cheek into the floor with a sigh.  

 “I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” He admitted quietly, after some time. “You’re _dead_ , Takashi. So just stay dead.”

 

 

Hours later Keith woke shivering on the bathroom floor. He could hear the scanner crackling out the strange static code as he struggled to sit up. Making his way out into the living room, Keith sunk down onto the couch like a sack of potatoes. He didn’t bother with the scanner. It continued to buzz, the light of it like a beacon in the darkness of the shack. Keith closed his eyes, listening to sound of it. Eventually, he drifted off into dark, dreamless sleep.

He spent the next three days in misery, his arm burning as if it had been the one hacked in two.  

 

 

***

 

 

 **IwAnt2beLIEve:** _i_ _keep telling you guys that this is a call out and the aliens are coming for us_

 **Skychaser23:** _omgggg_ _you are so dumb. we’ve already established its numbers you dumbass_

 **space_cheez:** _if the code is numbers has anyone tried doing it as coordinates? maybe its warning us of attack sites._

 **GeophapsPlumifera:** _Riiight because aliens are really going to want to hit up a Mcdonalds in Batesville, Arkansas._

 **YellowShirt_NCC1701D:** _I’d be more interested in the donut shop they have there, tbh. Mm. donuts._

 **_IwAnt2beLIEve:_ ** _OMG THE ALIENS WANT DONUTS._

Keith rolled his eyes as he scrolled through the new replies on the static chatter thread. There still hadn’t been any useful input, but Keith wasn’t really surprised on that count. The only thing he’d gotten of value had been delivered via direct message from Geophaps and YellowShirt. The two of them had been working together in Keith’s absence to figure the code out. So far, they had only been able to exclude the things that the numbers were not. Map coordinates were at the top of that list.

Nursing yet another cup of cold, truck-stop coffee, Keith clicked out the static thread and began to scroll through the rest of the posts on the website. He was starting to get bored waiting for Geophaps to log in, and clicked on a thread about outer space sasquatches to pass the time. It was kind of funny actually and the OP was convinced they were just as real as Earth sasquatches. Keith was half-way through reading the thread when he got an alert for a new DM. Clicking back, he was about to open his inbox when he noticed a new post at the top of the main page.

**Kerberos: Faked or fact?**

Keith felt his stomach clench as he stared at the link. He wasn’t sure if he should read the post or not. The longer Keith sat there, though, the more he itched to click the link. Finally, he jabbed the text and the thread loaded. The user, a person going by the name 134340, had been a member for less than 20 minutes.

 

 **134340:** _As most of you are aware, in a few weeks it will be the anniversary of the crew of the Kerberos mission going missing. But what really happened? If anyone has been following the events related to the mission over the past year, we know a couple of things. One: There has been very little in the way of official information released. Two: The coverage by the media has been almost zilch since the incident occurred. Three: The hacked footage from the ship’s surveillance feeds reveal startling evidence that the crew wasn’t even on board at the time of the so-called incident.  We also know that this footage has been suppressed and purged from the internet. (Unless you know where to look.) The official statement as to why? “Out of respect for the families”._

_There was something there though, we all saw it with our own eyes._

_With the anniversary of the incident coming up though, you’d think that if it really was a terrible, tragic accident that there would be more of a media presence. People assign a value to loss of life when it happens in the public eye, especially when it brings in viewers. It’s like when we see an accident on the side of the road. We have to stop and look. We all want to see and are relieved when it isn’t us. Sick, but true. And the crew of the Kerberos mission were pretty much heroes until things went ass-up._

_Well, the crew are still heroes. The pilot? Not so much. Galaxy Garrison has been dragging his name through the mud for almost a year now. Not much respect for his family there._

_So where does that leave us? How come there hasn’t been any of those revisiting the tragedy type specials? How come there’s been literally no mention of the one year anniversary?_

_There has to be more to it than the lies that are being shoved down the public’s throats. What about the data from the mission recorder that was recovered? None of that was ever released. None of it. The so-called “Pilot error” was never explained to anyone, not even to the families. The only thing anyone has to go on is the video from the hacked feed and the bizarre response from Galaxy Garrison._

_What are they trying to hide?_

 

Keith stared at the computer screen, trying to process what it was he had just read. Reading it a second time didn’t make it any clearer. There was hacked footage of the surveillance feeds from the ship? Since when? It didn’t seem likely, but Keith supposed it was possible. He’d been living as a recluse for the past eleven and a half months, so even if there was it wasn’t like he’d know.

Still, it was baffling. Someone had gone looking for that footage and had intentionally leaked it. Why though? What was the purpose? Refreshing the thread, Keith scrolled through the replies. Most of them seemed to agree that Galaxy Garrison was trying to cover something up. There were also several references to the supposed leaked video footage. Nobody posted the actual clip, however, and that frustrated Keith enough that he replied to the post asking for a link to it. When that yielded no results, Keith attempted to direct message the original poster only to find the account was no longer active.

“What the ever-loving shit,” He said with a growl. Angry now, Keith debated on whether or not he should risk a Google search. He’d almost decided to go for it when a ping from the message board alerted Keith that he had yet another DM. He tabbed over to the window with the message board in it and found that Geophaps had been trying to get ahold of him.

 **GeophapsPlumifera (11:30 AM):** _Hey, so YellowShirt agrees that the message isn’t any sort of alpha-numeric code. We’re going to try something else after I finish writing the software for it._

 **GeophapsPlumifera (11:35 AM):** _Omg can you believe these idiots. Really? Aliens are not going to invade Earth for our shitty fast-food. Especially not fucking Mcdonalds all like “Heey, here from the Gamma Quadrant for a McGriddle and a shake. Set phasers to delicious.”_

 **GeophapsPlumifera (11:50 AM):** _Hey, I saw your reply to the Kerberos thread. Have you been following that at all?_

Keith, unsure of how to respond, took a moment to come up with a reply.

 **Aero-X (12 PM):** _Oh, hey. Yeah, I was reading the thread, I guess I’ve been following it a little. I heard about it when it first happened but I don’t get online a whole lot so I haven’t seen much about it. Have you seen this video everyone is talking about?_

What Keith really wanted to do was to ask if Geo knew where to find the video clip. _Patience_ , Keith reminded himself. He got the feeling that if started making demands, whoever was on the other end of the computer screen might get spooked. Leaning back, Keith finished his cold coffee instead, compelling himself to wait. Eventually, Keith’s inbox alerted him that he had a new message. He opened it up.

 **GeophapsPlumifera (12:15 PM):** _You still looking for the video? I have it if you want. It’s pretty weird._

Keith pulled in a long breath. He took his time typing out a reply, he didn’t want to come across as being impatient.

 **Aero-X (12:17 PM):** _If you have it, that would be cool. It sounds pretty crazy. That post was pretty intense. I tried messaging the OP but they deactivated. Pretty weird, huh?_

 **GeophapsPlumifera (12:20 PM):** _Wow. Yeah, that is pretty weird I guess. But with the anniversary coming up its not really surprising. I’ll attach the video then I gotta go._

 **Aero-X (12:22 PM):** _Okay, cool. Thanks. I’ll work on the code but I don't think I’m gonna be much help._

 **GeophapsPlumifera (12:24 PM):** _It's fine. Gotta run! Video incoming._

 

On the computer screen, a box popped up indicating there was an incoming attachment. Keith clicked accept and waited impatiently for it download. Finally after a few minutes, no thanks to the slow Wi-Fi, the transfer was complete. Keith ran a quick virus scan then opened the file up. It took a second for the media player to load and Keith fidgeted impatiently as he waited. Eventually, the video began to play and Keith pitched forward in his seat to squint at the screen expectantly.

There was no audio, and the quality wasn’t that great, but the feed was undeniable of the ship that had been sent to Kerberos. Keith recognized the room shown in the bottom left of the split display. Shiro had spent hours in that room talking to Keith via video feed and it was strange seeing it again after so long. There was even what looked like an officer’s jacket draped across the chair. Keith frowned at it and scrunched up his nose. He ignored the painful tickle that crept up along his sinuses and directed his attention to the three other displays in the video.

There was nothing amiss in any of them and from what Keith could tell it looked like a fairly normal day by Kerberos standards. Glancing down at the timestamp from the feed, Keith gave a little start. The video was dated several hours after the last time Keith had spoken to Shiro. Somehow it didn't hurt Keith as much as he thought it would. Numbed and curiously detached, he watched as the clip continued to play. Nothing happened for several minutes. Then, at the 3.34 mark, all four of the video displays began to shake.

It was like watching an earthquake. Jiggling and shaking, objects in the frames of the interior feeds began to topple and fall. The exterior feeds, by contrast, were ablaze with flashing lights. They became brighter and brighter until all four displays were filled with a blinding flash of light.

Then, there was _nothing_.

No static, no video, no nothing. Just a string of error code on the bottom of the screen flashing “COMMUNICATION ERROR. FEED DISABLED”

Keith, heart pounding in his chest, rewound the clip to watch it again. The more he watched it, the more he began to realize something. Goosebumps exploded along his arms. Snapping the lid of the laptop shut, Keith shoved the device away as if it were alive. His breath was raspy and loud in his ears. The revalation left Keith shivering where he sat. The light on the video feed had been _violet_. It was the same light that Keith had been seeing in his nightmares for months now.

 

 

Keith put the coded message on the comms out of mind. He put the supposed conspiracy surrounding the Kerberos mission and the video footage out of mind. If Geo or YellowShirt got anywhere with any of it, Keith wasn’t aware. He avoided the truck stop and it’s free internet, and by extension, the message board. He went off the grid again, keeping to himself and shunning the company of others. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about _any_ of it.

There was something larger at work here, and the implications were terrifying. What any of it had to do with Keith and a man who had been dead for almost a year now, Keith had no idea.

 

 

***

 

A few weeks later, Keith woke feeling apprehensive and out of sorts. There was a niggling sensation in the pit of his stomach telling him to get up and get moving. It told him that something was coming and he had to be ready for it. Annoyed, Keith tried to ignore it. But the voice, which had been strangely quiet in recent days, began to pick at Keith again. It pestered and plagued until Keith flopped upright on the couch with a groan.

“Okay, okay. _I get it._ Something is fucking coming.” Keith replied with a grunt.

Hauling himself upright, Keith shuffled to his feet. The rush of dizziness was unexpected, and he made a soft, startled noise as his vision swam and doubled. The familiarity of the dessert shack dissolved around him and Keith found himself in a dim hall lit by glowing, fuchsia lights. Confused, Keith struggled to make sense of what was happening.

_Keep moving!_

The thought was loud and intrusive and not entirely Keith’s own. He stumbled forward, trying to get his feet to cooperate. Clumsy and uncoordinated, Keith tripped and lurched into a wall. The hand that shot out to arrest the movement was not his. It was sleek, and polished and whirred like machinery when it moved. Gasping out in alarm, Keith pinched his eyes shut. When he opened them again he was back in the desert. His little house came back into sudden, sharp focus, making Keith’s eyes tighten with the strain.

Pulling in a steadying breath, he took a moment to collect himself.  But the voice, pounding and insistent, was telling Keith he had to go.  He growled out in frustration. “I hate you, you know that? You really fucking suck,” He said with a sour frown. Moving away from the couch then, Keith tried to decide what to do with himself.

In truth, he had no idea what it was that he was even supposed to be preparing for.

Keith’s gut, fomenting with several conflicting emotions, was unreliable at best. The scanner code could go fuck itself, and so could Galaxy Garrison. Keith was done with all that and he scowled into a tin of unheated soup as he scarfed it down. Eventually, he decided on the caves. There was still plenty of daylight left to explore them, and maybe there was something that he had missed. Finishing up his sparse meal, Keith packed his things up and headed out.

The trip was relatively quick. Familiar with the route now, Keith was there in less than a half hour. He pulled up as close to the largest cave as he could and finished the rest of the journey on foot. When he came to the massive rift in the stone, Keith couldn’t help but to hesitate before stepping inside. A shiver of something like prescience crawled over his skin. The voice buzzed in the back of Keith’s brain, the message indistinct but urgent.

Keith shook it off, flinging it away like droplets of water.  He stepped inside the cave and switched on his flashlight. There wasn’t anything here that he hadn’t documented already. Even so, he made a careful circuit of the interior of the large cavern. As he did so, he studied the drawings on the walls. From what Keith gathered, unlike the drawings in the smaller caves, these told a complete story.

Moving clockwise from the entrance the drawings depicted the tale of a blue lion. It started with the beast falling from the sky. Like a comet it came, arriving amongst the peoples of Earth. The people, alarmed, came for the lion, weapons drawn. A man-like figure then emerged from the lion. In its hands were two strange objects, which he gifted to the Earth people.

From there the story went on to depict many great things the lion and the man accomplished. Keith wasn’t sure what exactly the drawings were supposed to portray, but there was one that showed the lion swallowing fire, and another depicting a lavish, sprawling garden with the lion in the center of it.

The drawings that followed were more confusing. They showed the figure of the man being eaten by the lion, and then the lion laying down as if asleep. The next drawing featured the sleeping lion surrounded by a pale, pinkish halo of light. Above it was an arch portraying the phases of the moon. The last and final pictograph showed the lion awake, raised up into a sitting position. It was drawn with its head angled toward the sky. Above it, there was dark, oblong shape and the rays extending from the back of it reminded Keith of a shooting star.

He paused at this drawing, considering it with a thoughtful frown. Reaching out, Keith pressed his fingertips to the object in the sky, wondering what it was supposed to represent. The rough, cave wall beneath his fingertips buzzed like electricity. Confused, Keith snatched his hand away.

“..What the hell?” He demanded out loud.

The voice, a pulsing, insistent hum, gave no intelligible response. Keith huffed out an annoyed curse. He left the main cave, picking his way through the uneven rock formations to go explore some of the smaller caverns. There was nothing new, and no fresh insights and by the time Keith decided to give up it was dark. Frustrated and tired Keith made his way back down to the desert floor where his bike was parked.

A truly spectacular tension headache was starting to form at his temples, and Keith could feel the tightness growing in his neck and shoulders. Starting to feel as though the entire day had been a waste, he hopped up onto his bike. Choosing to forgo the helmet entirely, Keith ignored the little voice that told him riding without proper headgear wasn’t safe. He pulled the bandana looped around his neck up over his nose and mouth instead, and kicked the bike into gear. Turning in the direction he had come, Keith headed toward home. 

The heat of the day and settled in to a cool, crisp evening. The wind was enervating and Keith smiled a bit as it whipped through his hair. Above, the stars were a spray of twinkling lights strewn across the heavens. The moon, full and bright, cast playful, silvery shadows into the sand. Keith let the pale illumination guide him, reveling in the stark, desolate beauty of it. He was halfway to the shack when something streaked bright and orange across the canvas of silvery-blue sky.

A pang of something, tight and sharp, grabbed Keith in a chest. His breath caught in his throat and he reeled the hover bike in, pulling up short. Almost, it felt like a premonition. It felt like coming home.

Keith watched as the object sailed through the sky, fast and blazing. It flew across the tops of the jagged rock formations, on a crash-course toward the earth. He saw the impact before he heard it. Light flared on the horizon, then came the explosion of sound. It was _loud_. Loud enough that Keith felt the desert floor shiver beneath him. Stunned, Keith could only gape at what he had just seen. Then, he remembered the drawing from the cave: The lion looking toward the sky. The thing in the sky that trailed spikes like a comet.

Keith’s pulse thundered in his ears. Whatever it was that had crashed wouldn’t be out there long before it was swarming with Garrison personnel. He had to get there and he had to get there fast. Wheeling the bike around, Keith twisted the controls kicked it into gear. He sped off in the direction of the crash.

For the first time in over a year, the pain in Keith’s chest eased.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, friends! I know I said I would try to get this finished before I left for my trip, but it didn't happen. I did however decide to split the last part into two chapters so you could at least have something to tide you over until my return. Anyway, next chapter is the last, and for those who aren't aware...Yes, I am already planning a sequel. I had some really awesome ideas as I was writing this chapter, and they wont all fit with the format I've been writing this in so... Yay sequel! 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy and I'll be back from my trip on the 13th of August. Hope this will tide you over till then! Though with season 3 dropping soon, I'm sure you'll have plenty to keep you occupied :D

 

 

Keith stepped out into the dry summer heat of the desert with Lance close at his heels. The cracked asphalt radiated warmth from where it had absorbed heat during the course of the day. In the distance, cicadas droned over the buzz of other night-time insects. Keith frowned in confusion as he turned in a circle to inspect their surroundings. It appeared that he and Lance had landed at one of those all-night truck stops, and judging by the largely empty parking lot, it was either very late or very early.

“...Well, this isn’t what I expected,” Lance commented off-hand.

Keith had to agree. In truth, the whole scenario was a little unnerving. Drawing closer to the storefront, Keith peered inside. Harsh white light shone down upon rows and rows of brightly packaged snacks. In the back, a line of freezers boasted a veritable rainbow of soft drinks. Squinting against the headache-inducing illumination, Keith frowned. It was eerie and almost surreal. A little like a painting or something. He couldn’t stop staring.

“Okay, this is a little creepy,” Lance observed. He crept closer to Keith and pressed his face against the window to peek inside.

“It could be worse,” Keith stated as he turned aside to gaze out into the empty parking lot.

Beside him, Lance scoffed. “Oh totally. We could be in some weird memory reality instead of really back on Earth, looking into a store that has all the delicious junk food that I miss eating and not, yanno, be able to actually eat it.”

Keith rolled his eyes. But now that Lance had mentioned it, the thought was lodged in Keith’s brain. Whipping around, he craned to see inside the store. A display of Little Debbie’s near the front caught Keith’s eye and taunted him. The colorful candies on the cosmic brownies damned near gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

“ _Fuck,”_ Keith whined. “Fuck this shit. Lance, I fucking hate you. Why did you have to say anything!?” He shot back with a scowl.

Lance merely shrugged. “I had to share my pain, dude. If I can’t have a rocket pop, you have to suffer too.”

Shooting out a hand, Keith gave Lance a shove. “I hate you so much. _So_ much,” He grumbled.

Unfazed, Lance turned his attention back to the inside of the store. He pressed closer to the glass and dragged his sweaty palms down the smooth, streaked surface. The sound was jarring and annoyingly loud. Almost as annoying as the gurgle of longing that Lance made.

“Ugh, just stop!” Keith snapped.

Lance merely continued to gurgle loudly. Keith, grunting, thumped his forehead against the glass. Pushing his unease aside, Keith wondered what would happen if he were to go inside and try his hand at shoplifting. There had to be some element of reality here. Lance had gotten dust in his hair earlier. There was _still_ dust in Lance's hair. Not only that, Keith could feel the coolness inside the store through the glass of the window.

Sighing, he closed his eyes. There had to be a reason Blue had brought them here. Snacks forgotten, Keith thought back on what they had seen so far. It was obvious what Blue was trying to accomplish. By revealing the truth she was entirely rewriting Keith’s view of his father. It was a lot to swallow, and to be honest Keith wasn’t sure he liked it. He had been carrying around his hurt and anger for so long that he wasn’t sure what he would do without it. The right thing to do, the _healthy_ thing to do, was to let it go.

 

Keith wasn’t sure he wanted to.

 

The sound of a vehicle rolling up pulled him from his sour thoughts. Keith snapped his eyes open just in time to see headlights flash in the window. In the reflection, a beat up truck rolled to a halt. It had barely stopped moving when a woman hopped from the cab and slammed the door shut. Keith's mother, her face pinched in a scowl, sailed by on her way inside. Dumbfounded, Keith whirled around, only to catch a whiff of her perfume as she passed.

“...Should we follow her?” Lance asked hesitantly.

Pulled from his daze, Keith whipped his head in the direction of the truck. Behind the wheel, his father was waiting, face grim. It was the same look that Kira had been giving his fellow Paladins back in the hangar. It made Keith uneasy. He didn’t like it at all. He wondered if his parents had been fighting.

“I don’t know,” Keith finally replied, unsure of himself.

Whatever was happening, whatever was about to happen, Keith knew it wasn’t going to be good. Nearby someone came out of the store. The chime was loud and jarring in the stagnant heat of the desert night. Keith’s mother, emerging at a steady clip, made her way back to the truck. In her hand was a plastic bag that was beading with moisture where the drinks inside it were sweating. Keith, making a snap decision, grabbed Lance by the hand and dragged him toward the truck.

“C’mon,” He urged, pulling Lance up into the truck bed.

“Woah, we’re not riding back here, are we?” Lance squawked as Keith hauled him up against the back of the cab.

Rolling his eyes, Keith sat down. He dragged Lance with him. “How else are we supposed to follow them when they drive off?”

“I don’t know, in the back seat like normal human beings?” Lance shot back, panicked.

Blowing out an annoyed huff, Keith jabbed a finger toward the cab. “I’m already in there, dumbass, _look_!” Sure enough, settled in the row of secondary seating was a sleeping child in a booster chair. “Besides,” Keith added. “Not exactly a normal human being, am I?”

Scowling, Lance slumped where he sat. “That’s not even fair, man. You can’t use that as an excuse for making stupid decisions.”

“I just did,” Keith replied as he situated himself. Then, as an afterthought, he reached out to snatch up the trailing ends of a thick, yellow strap affixed to the bed of the truck. He held out a hand to Lance. “Here, give me the other end with the metal thingy on it.”

“Metal thingy?” Lance asked, eyebrows arched.

Grunting in frustration, Keith bent over Lance and snatched the other end of the strap. He was feeding the sturdy material into the ratchet device as the truck began to move.

“Dad used to haul his old bike around in his truck,” Keith explained. “You want me to strap us down or what? Coz I don’t mind letting you fly out if you’re gonna be an ass about it.”

Almost immediately Lance straightened up to sit neatly against the cab. Rolling his eyes, Keith began to tighten the strap so that it sat snug across their laps. It wouldn’t do much in the event of a real accident, but it seemed to allay Lance’s unease at any rate. Slowly the truck pulled out of the parking lot and on to the road. Keith ratcheted the strap a little tighter just for good measure.

Next to Keith, Lance squawked as the sturdy material tightened across his lap. He grabbed at the strap and wriggled in discomfort. “Darling Clementine!” He yelped.

“What?” Keith demanded as he whipped his head in Lance’s direction.

“What do you mean _what_?” Lance questioned, his voice sharp. “Haven’t you ever heard of a safe word, bro?”

Scowling, Keith crossed his arms over his chest.

“Don’t tell me that you and Shiro have never played Officer and Cadet. C’mon, that guy practically screams military kink,” Lance said, angling Keith with a critical look.

Keith pursed his lips tighter. He arched a brow in response, clearly unimpressed. He tried not to think about the way his face flamed with embarrassment.

“Riight, okay. Maybe not.” Lance decided as he inched away from Keith. “Never mind. Just forget I said anything.”

Snorting out in annoyance, Keith turned away to stare out into the night. He was starting to feel a little overwhelmed. Keith’s thoughts, chaotic, churned in his head like a whirlpool. One thing that was starting to become achingly clear, however, was the fact that his friends thought his relationship with Shiro was more involved than it actually was. Sliding back against the truck, Keith heaved out a sigh. It really wasn’t their business. Not really anyway. Then again, maybe it was, just a bit. Pragmatically speaking, Keith’s angst on that front had been affecting the team as a whole. He _knew_ that. It was just...

“Look,” Keith began at length, speaking over the rush of the wind. “I don’t know what you guys think is going on between Shiro and I, but it’s not--We’re not...”

“Not what?” Lance asked carefully. He was clearly confused.

Frowning, Keith turned aside. His chest pulsed with the same dull, ache and there was no keeping the bleak dejection from seeping through his connection with Lance. “We’re just... Not,” Keith replied. “We never were, not even before all this.”

Lance didn’t reply, not really anyway. There was a faint pulse of sympathy that shook through their connection though. For some reason, it left Keith feeling worse. He closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the vehicle. The truck, far from the rest stop now, had long since merged onto the highway. Moving at a steady pace now, the wind whipped Keith’s hair into his face. It felt nice though, familiar even. The heat, the tang of it in his nose, the scent of the dry, sun-baked earth; it felt solid, safe. It gave Keith a point at which to focus himself.

It reminded him of home, and of things left behind. Hesitantly, Keith opened his eyes and slid his gaze in Lance's direction. He wondered what Lance was thinking of. A vibration of something soft and sad was answer enough. Keith sighed as he felt a pull of longing for a planet that was millions of light years away. Reaching out, Keith grabbed at Lance's hand gave it a squeeze. Lance seemed a little surprised by the action, but never-the-less offered Keith a small smile in return.

The rest of the ride passed in companionable silence. Keith didn't mind and it was really much too loud over the rush of the wind. Lance, choosing to withdraw, left Keith alone in his own head. Which was fine. Keith was starting to get tired and even in the best of circumstances Lance was still mentally exhausting. When the truck finally began to slow, Keith glanced up in confusion. Craning forward, he twisted to look out over the side of the vehicle. The truck, inching along the breakdown lane now, turned into the rough, uneven terrain of the desert.

“What? Where are we?” Lance questioned.

“Not sure,” Keith replied, his nose wrinkling in contemplation.

Swiveling around, he leaned up to press his face against the window at the back of the cab. It was only open a crack which wasn't helpful. Nor was the fact that Keith still couldn't hear much over the rattling machinery. Frustrated, he twisted his head against the sliding window to press his ear to the opening. This far back the conversation that his parents were engaged in was little more than a mumble over the low hum of the radio.

Keith breathed out a curse but froze as his gaze caught on the boy in the backseat. The kid was watching the window, his little mouth pursed in a frown. Puzzled, he pointed up at Keith. Something buzzing and electric trembled along Keith's awareness and he jolted away from the window, taken aback. The truck bounced suddenly and he tumbled into Lance with a startled yelp.

“What the hell, man! Be more careful!” Lance hissed as the two of them struggled.

“Sorry!” Keith snapped back, embarrassed. “I was--Not me, _little_ me-- he saw me and it was fucking weird!”

Lance, frowned. Then he scrambled upright to peer through the back of the truck. Reeling away he angled Keith with a speculative look. “Really?” Lance questioned. “It’s just you. And you’re all small and shit. What’s the worst he’s gonna do? Make a frowny emo face?”

“I do _not_ have a frowny emo face!” Keith replied, angry.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Dude. You do. Like ninety-nine percent of the time you're all scowly and shit. Your face is a resting emo face.”

Growling in frustration, Keith flopped back against the cab of the truck. His skin felt tingly and tight and there was a static sort of buzz in the back of his mind. It felt a little like he'd stuck his fingers in a light socket and had been shocked. Keith suspected that trying to explain it to Lance would just leave him more disgruntled so he didn't. Instead, he turned away to stare out into the desert.

The truck continued to rattle along, slowing at times to snail's pace in the rough topography. Keith, completely at a loss, wondered where it was they were headed. Though he had spent weeks roaming the arid terrain near the Garrison in the aftermath of Shiro's supposed death, Keith wasn't familiar with this particular spot. It was possible that time had altered it beyond his recognition, but Keith had a feeling that wasn't the case. Sullen, he let the rest of the journey pass in sulky silence.

When the truck finally slowed to a stop some minutes later, he twisted where he sat. Curious to see where it was they had stopped, Keith squinted out into the darkness. In the light of a pale, waning moon, he could make out the jagged tops of a large rock formation just ahead. Freeing the strap holding them in place, he clambered to his feet.

“Isn’t this where we found Blue?” Lance asked, standing up as well.

 Tipping his head to the side, Keith frowned speculatively at the craggy mountain. “Maybe? I’ve just never come at it from this direction. Weird.”

Lance angled his head to the side as well and made a soft, appraising sort of sound. The pair of them were still trying to puzzle out their location when the truck doors suddenly creaked open. Emerging from the cab, Keith’s parents stepped out into the night. They moved to the front of the truck and stopped several feet from the vehicle. In the harsh illumination from the headlights, their bodies made long, strange shadows.

Carefully, Keith hopped down out of the back of the truck and made his way closer. Behind him, there was a scuffle as Lance did the same. Level with the side mirror now, Keith wondered what was going on. There had to be a reason for his parents driving all the way out here in the middle of the night. Shuffling where he stood, Keith bit at his lip in anxious anticipation. Ahead, his mother began to speak.

“Are you really sure? What if there was some sort of mistake?” She asked her husband. Her mouth was pulled into a tense little frown. “All I want is for you to get in touch with your contacts before we make any sort of decision.”

“I told you, Ava, It isn’t that simple. If I reach out to them we’re as good as caught,” Keith’s father countered, low and terse. “We got lucky this time. I was able to scramble the signal, but they _will_ come looking. If they do..."

Confused, Keith let out a slow breath. Had the Galra found them somehow? What signal was his father talking about? Had someone tried to contact him, only to alert Zarkon of Blue's whereabouts?

Kira went on, clearly troubled. “I need to lead them away before they get too close. I need to keep you safe. If they find you-- If they find Keith-- They…They won't be kind.”

It wasn't what Keith's mother wanted to hear. Her expression had become hard and closed off, the line of her body tense. “How can you keep us safe if you're not here? What are we supposed to do without you? What am _I_ supposed to do?” She asked, voice shaking with repressed hurt and anger.

The scowl on Kira's face deepened, and for a moment it seemed as though he might get angry. Instead, he angled his head in the direction of the truck. He was looking into the cab, Keith realized. It was possible that he was thinking of his son tucked away in the backseat. Eventually, Keith's father pushed out a long sigh of a breath. He scrubbed a hand down his face in frustration then turned back to his wife.

 "...What do you propose then?” Kira questioned, voice quiet and clipped. “Where will we go? How will we survive?”

“There has to be a better choice than this,” Keith's mother interrupted, voice heated. “You've hidden before, you can do it again. There has to be someone out there-- We can find your people and--”

Keith’s father barked out a bitter laugh. “My people are dead, Ava. Murdered down to the last child. Zarkon saw to that. He is a disease spreading across the very fabric of the universe with no regard for life what-so-ever. That he hasn't infected this galaxy yet is sheer dumb luck.”

“--But” Keith's mother pressed.

“But _nothing_ ,” Kira snapped. “We knew this was a possibility. We discussed this. I don't fear death, but if they find you? If they find Keith? I can't allow it. I can't. Nor can I allow them to find Blue. There's more at stake than you realize, _why_ don't you understand that?”

Keith's mother was trembling now. In the harsh yellow beams of the headlights, the tears on her face glinted in high-contrast. “Your friends, Clan Marmora, can't they help us?” She tried, in a desperate last attempt.

“...And what are they to do with a human woman and a child? How are they supposed to hide the Blue Lion of Voltron and her paladin?” Keith's father asked more gently this time. “I can't betray Essdra's memory like that, Ava. I can't mark her kin for execution. If they help us and are discovered they are all dead. I can't bring an entire empire to their doorstep.”

Bowing under the weight of her misery, Keith's mother covered her face with her hands. “You said we’d be fine as long as we stood together,” She said, her breath hitched on her tears. “How am I supposed to stand if you’re not with me?”

“I would rather you stand without me than have to watch you die,” Kira admitted, soft and heartbroken “I’ve lost so much already. I can’t-- I can’t lose you too.”

 

 This is what it looked like to watch a man crumble to pieces, Keith realized.

 

He could see the way his father's chest heaved, trying to contain each sharp breath he took. There was also something so terrible about the stiff way he held himself, and the anguish that creased his brow. Almost, Keith knew what it must have felt like. Almost he could feel the wrenching tightness in his chest. But this empathy wasn't something that Keith wanted. It clashed with his understanding of his father and it made him angry. Angry and hurt. Though who it was Keith was angry at, he wasn't quite sure of anymore.

Through her tears, Keith's mother began to speak again. “If you go you’ll lose us anyway,” She said.

It seemed then that Kira's resolve had crumbled. Reaching out, he pulled his wife into the circle of his arms and crushed her carefully close. He pushed his nose into her hair, kissing the top her her head.

“Shhh,” He urged gently, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re right, I'm sorry. We’re better together. We’ll all go, just shh now, everything will be okay.”

Keith knew a lie when he heard one. The realization sliced through him like a blade and he felt his throat tighten reflexively. Along his nose, Keith could feel the sudden tickle of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “He’s going to leave us here.” He said simply.

Lance's breath was a warm puff against Keith's ear as he drew in close. “Are you sure?” He asked gently. His concern pulsed from him in waves.

Keith huffed out a watery, biting sort of laugh. “No. But it’s the only damned thing that makes sense.”

“But if he was just going to leave you behind, why would he bring you all the way out here?” Lance questioned.

Keith shrugged. To be honest, he had no idea. He remembered not a damned thing, and the more he tried to work it through, the more his thoughts skittered and danced aside. It didn't make sense, and Keith was starting to get the impression that Blue was hiding something from the both of them. For Keith, it all boiled down to the man who had walked out the door and had never come home. The father that Keith remembered was a ghost that he blamed for ruining everything. The father that Keith remembered was not a man hell-bent on saving his family from the tide of oncoming war.

At Keith's side, Lance made a soft considering sound. Then he reached out to set his palm on Keith’s back. “Let’s just see what happens, okay? You might be wrong.” Lance said, giving Keith a reassuring thump.

Keith hummed in response. He didn't think he was wrong, but he took comfort in the companionable touch anyway. Nearby his parents had drawn apart. Moving to the truck, Keith's father reached inside to retrieve his small son from the back seat. The boy went easily, his body lax and soft from sleep. He yawned as he tucked in against his father’s chest.

“Are we going to see Blue today?” The child asked, sleepy but excited.

Nodding, Kira strode toward the rocks. “That’s the idea, little one.”

Breaking away from Lance, Keith moved to follow the trio as they continued their journey. It didn’t take long to get up into the cave system. Keith wasn’t surprised in the slightest when his parents moved into the largest of the caverns. The rough, stone walls lit as they moved inside, throwing the whole of the space into shades of bright, glowing cyan.

It was a little unnerving, Keith decided as he trailed after them. He’d spent so long exploring these caves, unaware of the fact that he’d been in them before. Numerous times, if the excitement of his child-self was anything to go by. The little boy had squirmed out of his father’s arms and was running ahead toward the back of the cave.

“Where do you think they’re going? Lance asked suddenly, drawing Keith from his thoughts.

“To see Blue I think,” Keith replied, distracted. “There’s probably a way to get down there that doesn’t involve a slip and slide of death.”

Beside him, Lance shuddered. No doubt he was recalling their discovery of the lion. As it turned out, Keith’s assumption was right because once his father had reached the back of the cavern he set his hand to the drawing of the sleeping lion. For a second the cave wall shimmered, then the entirety of it disappeared to reveal a set of stairs hewn into the rock.

Mooning over the disappearance of the wall, Lance tripped as he watched the stairway reveal itself. “Blue!! You let us fall on purpose!” He cried in dismay. The sound of it echoed loudly through the cavern

“Shh! Not so loud!” Keith chided as he elbowed Lance in the ribs.

“Ow!!” Lance shot back, just as loud. He stopped to scowl at Keith, rubbing at his side as he did so. “You don’t have to be so abusive, it’s not like they can hear us!”

“You don’t know that!” Keith shot back. He glanced ahead, watching as his parents descended into the lower portion of the cave.

Rolling his eyes, Lance strode ahead. “Well yelling about it isn’t going to help either way you lunatic.” He said.

Grunting, Keith resisted the urge to shove Lance down the damned stairs. Instead, he followed at a safe and acceptable distance. When they reached the bottom, Keith looked out across the vast space to where Blue was sitting. It was strange, seeing her here like this. Strange and hard to remember that this was all just a memory, an echo that they were experiencing like a very real, very vivid dream. At Blue’s paw, Keith could see where his child-self was trying to clamber up her claws. Keith tugged Lance’s arm and jogged ahead.

“C’mon,” He urged.

Lance followed. Arriving just in time to watch Kira haul his son up onto the lion’s foot, Keith listened as the child squealed with glee.

“Careful, baby,” His mother chided from her place at her husband’s side.

Kira offered her a small smile. “He’ll be fine. He’s tougher than he looks. Besides, what are you going to do about the time he decides he wants to fly?”

Atop the lion’s paw, the little boy stopped what he was doing and scooted closer to where his parents were standing. “I already fly. Blue shows me in my head and we go places.”

Sighing, Keith’s mother gave her husband a little swat. “This is all your fault you know,” She said, smiling despite the way her brows pinched together. “He’s going to be just like you.”

Keith’s father snorted, soft and derisive. There was a softness to his expression though, something that made him seem tired and sad. “Let’s hope not.” He said quietly. Then, to his son: “Why don’t you ask Blue if she’ll show you something nice? I bet if you ask her, she can tell you about where Papa grew up.”

“Really?” The boy asked in excitement, all but vibrating where he sat.

“Really,” Keith’s father affirmed.

The child wriggled in absolute glee and flopped down atop Blue’s paw. Laying out on his stomach, he tucked his head into the cradle of his arms and smiled. Quietly, he began whispering secrets into the smooth panels of the lion's hull. What was interesting though, Keith noted, was the way the child’s round cheeks pulsed with color just beneath the eyes. Like he couldn’t quite master himself enough to keep his shifting abilities in check. It had Keith huffing out in amusement. Some things never changed, he supposed.

“Man, I almost feel bad about being mean to you now. You used to be so cute and adorable. I just wanna pinch your little cheekies.” Lance cut in.  

“Touch me or my cheekies and I will murder you in your bed,” Keith replied without missing a beat.

Lance snorted at that, and Keith could see him grinning out of the corner of his eye. Their connection pulsed with shared affection as Keith drew up as close as he dared to his parents. They had moved aside to linger where Blue’s massive head rested on the cave floor.

“..If we’re going to go, we should go.” Keith's mother said once they were out of their son’s hearing distance.

Kira hummed thoughtfully in response. Reaching out, he set the palm of his hand to the hinge of Blue’s jaw. Oddly, it reminded Keith of those final moments in the hangar, after his father had said goodbye to his fellow paladins. That thought alone was enough to reawaken Keith's restless anxiety. At his side, even Lance tensed. Something was about to happen, there was a palpable shiver of it lingering in the air.

As the silence started to stretch long, there was a ripple. A little spark of something that Keith felt right down into the pit of his stomach. The air began to spark and sputter with tiny arcs of light and it stole Keith's breath away. Rooted to the spot, he could only watch in helpless, horrified fascination as his father turned away from Blue.

“I need you to promise me something, Ava,” Kira said with an air of finality.

Confused, Keith’s mother stiffened. Her lips pursed in a frown. “Kira...” She began, wary.

“Ava, please,” He implored.

But she wasn’t listening now, she was turning aside, frantic and unsettled as she searched for her son. She made to take a step in the little boy's direction, but her husband reached out to snatch her by the forearms. Firm but gentle, his thumbs pressed into the delicate insides of her elbows.

“Ava, _please_. You have to listen,” Kira begged.

But Keith's mother fought. Struggling, she twisted in her husband's arms. Tears were streaming down her face. “No!” She sobbed. “You don’t get to do this, you don’t get to decide for the both of us!”

The decision had already been made though. Keith could see it etched into the heartbroken lines of his father’s face.

“Ava-- Ava, _please_! Just--For the love of all that’s holy just listen to me!” Kira pleaded.

He was glowing now. Not the playful, lively tones of Lance’s blue, but a vibrant steely shade that was full and unflinching. The strange rush of energy that Keith had felt moments ago seemed to swell and intensify. Electric and heavy, Keith could almost taste it on his tongue. It left him trembling in restless apprehension where he stood. Ahead, Blue lifted her head suddenly upright. She cocked it to the side, regarding the tiny figures below with lambent, yellow eyes. Cold and distant, she watched as her paladin readied himself for battle.

Somehow Keith knew what was going to happen next. A scream caught in the back of his throat. Keith watched as the former Blue Paladin bowed his head, stiff and unflinching.

“Please just-- Remember that I loved you,” He said simply.

The light blazed hot and bright, and for a moment it was blinding. Then the color melted into shimmering gold that coalesced at a point in the palm of the Blue Paladin's hand. For a moment the light seemed suspended in place; pulsing like the beating of a heart. Then it seemed to quiver, the gold taking on tones of whirling blue. Seconds later Kira pushed it into his wife's skin.

She didn't make a sound. The light spread through her skin, and for a moment her eyes went big and round. Then, like a balloon bursting the energy dispersed. The air crackled and fizzed like the aftermath of a thunderstorm. Keith's mother, unconscious now, pitched forward into her husband's arms. Carefully he laid her out on the ground. On her arm, just inside her elbow, was a muted, steel-blue brush of color.

Keith wasn’t aware that he’d taken a step forward until Lance grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him back. For a moment, Keith fought it, trying to shrug away. Lance, surprisingly strong, held fast.

“Let me go!” Keith snapped, struggling.

“No, no Keith. Relax just--” Lance said, frantic.

He grappled with Keith, wrapping his long limbs around Keith’s torso. Snarling, Keith nearly sunk his teeth into Lance’s arm. A strong pulse of something crisp and biting doused his anger almost immediately and left Keith reeling. He felt a little like he'd just had a bucket of ice water dumped on his head. He slumped against Lance panting, his eyes curiously wet.

“He did something to her. He made her forget,” Keith said, voice thin and raspy.

Lance, still holding tight, let out a tight, thready breath. “That was quintessence, wasn’t it? He used it to...Mark her. Like a soul mark.”

Keith didn’t care about that. Not when his father was turning toward Blue’s paw, turning to where Keith’s child-self was blissfully unaware of what was about to befall him. The whine that escaped his throat was involuntary. High and frightened, Keith sounded like a child himself. The man approaching the boy was no longer Akira Kogane.

Shoulders squared the tall, intimidating man who approached the boy was Andrakira of Altea; Paladin of Voltron. He had changed, throwing off the trappings of his human guise. In the dim light, the markings beneath his eyes gave off a faint luminescence. His whole body gave off a faint luminescence. Keith’s breath caught in his throat.

“Keith,” The man said, addressing his small son.

The boy, sitting upright, yawned as if waking from a dream. Confused, his little head tipped to the side. He was frowning at his father, then slowly his mouth widened in a small, shy smile. His features changed too, the rounded ears elongating just slightly to form perfectly pointed little tips. The tops of his cheeks were streaked carmine.

“You look like me now, Papa,” The boy said, pleased with himself.

Kira gave his son a tight smile and nodded. “I do,” He affirmed.

Keith unable to tear his gaze away, watched boy clambered down from Blue’s paw and into his father’s arms. For a moment he frowned over his father’s shoulder, looking toward his mother who lay gracefully sprawled out on the cave floor. Then, he snuggled in close, burying his head under his father’s chin.

“What’s wrong with mama?” The child asked, voice quiet.

Kira, holding his son close, kissed the top of his dark little head. “Nothing, darling. She’s just asleep. Did you have a good talk with Blue?”

The little boy, innocent to what was about to happen, made a quiet noise of affirmation. “Mm, we went flying and then she showed me a big castle.”

“A big castle?” Kira questioned. He sounded sad, but fond. “Did you go inside?”

The boy shook his head. “Not this time. But Blue says someday I can go there myself. I’ll bring you and Mama too.”

The light surrounding Keith’s father dimmed just slightly, vibrating as his shoulders tightened. Tension bled down his arms and he eased his son closer. There was a catch in his voice when he spoke. “I think that would be great, darling. Next time, okay?”

“We can just go now,” The child pointed out in confusion. “We can fly there in Blue.”

“Not this time, Keith. Papa has to go. You’ll stay here with Mama and Blue. It’s not safe for me to stay with you right now.”

Frowning, the boy started to squirm in his father’s arms. He didn't understand, and Keith wondered if his child-self could feel the resonation of his father's heart break. The little boy was whimpering now, making soft frightened noises as he wiggled.

But Keith’s father was visibly distressed now, the cracks in his resolve making themselves known. He sounded desperate as he rocked his son and kissed the boy's head. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. Papa loves you very much, Keith. I’ll come back and find you if I can. Blue will look after you.”

Keith almost couldn't watch as the luminescence around his father brightened. The gilt shimmer of quintessence was more like the gentle rays of fading sunlight this time, rather than a supernova. It gleamed in the air around the two figures like a halo. When the glow faded Keith’s father was left holding his sleeping child. Human in appearance now, the boy was lax and peaceful, face damp from tears.

Keith’s wheezed. The pain in his chest was sharp and intense. All the hurt, the loneliness that was a raw, terrible thing inside of Keith-- It had been caused by this. He’d been left behind and abandoned and it was all down to this. The terrible razor-thin edge of it cut deep and hard. Keith scrubbed at his face, angry with his father. Angry with this damned war and angry at himself. Mostly though, he was angry at being so damned alone.

“I don’t--- Lance--I’m done with this. I can’t--” Keith began, choking on the words.  

Lance, crumbling under the weight of Keith’s emotions could only nod helplessly. “Yeah, okay. Shh, I’ll-- Yeah.”

Keith closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see anymore. He didn't want to watch as his father continued to hold the child that Keith had been so close. Unbidden, large wet drops of moisture rolled down his face. Unchecked, Keith let them fall. When he finally opened his eyes some minutes later he was back in the hangar sitting with Lance atop Blue. Sagging, Keith slouched forward and scrubbed his fists into his eyes.

“He made us forget,” Keith said. It came out as a high, pitchy whine. “He and Blue did it and then he left and then he died.”

Keith didn’t see it so much as feel it when Lance shot forward to curl his lanky arms around his back.

“I know. I saw. I’m--I’m sorry, Keith. This really, really sucks. I’m so sorry.” Lance replied.

Choking on a sob, Keith pressed into Lance and for a time allowed his sadness to pass between them. After a while, Keith started to feel a bit better. Gently, he shoved Lance away and scrubbed at his damp face. A long moment passed before Keith trusted himself enough to speak.

“If you mention this to anyone I’ll murder you in your sleep, McClain,” He warned without any real heat.

“Dude. You totally just used up your one pass for being a dick. I felt bad before, but now it’s so on you asshole,” Lance replied with a frown.

Things were back to normal it seemed, and Keith was thankful for it. He drew in a steadying breath and disentangled himself from Lance’s noodly arms. “Well, at least you know why I’m an ass now.”

Lance hummed in consideration as he angled a speculative look in Keith’s direction. For a second it seemed as though he were about to say something. Then, thinking better on it, sighed. “C’mon,” He said instead. “You look like shit and I don’t want to explain why you were crying. Shiro will probably think it’s my fault and be all frowny and disappointed.”

Abruptly, unexpectedly, Keith sputtered out a laugh. “Gee, thanks. Good to know what your priorities are, man.”

Grinning, Lance held out a hand to haul Keith to his feet. “Hey, I’m trying to save myself from a lecture. You know what he’s like. He’ll be at it for _hours_. I’d rather get chewed out by my mom than Shiro.”

Together they hopped down off of Blue and left the hangar.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I know it's been forever since I last posted, but here it is. The end of part 1. Thanks for sticking with me, and I really hope you enjoy this monster of a chapter. It was really hard for me to get it the way I wanted it, and I'm still not quite convinced that I'm satisfied with it yet. I'm sure when I re-read it tomorrow I'll find something to pick apart. Anyway, sorry for the long wait. And yeah, there is a sequel already in the works. Hopefully, it doesn't turn into a beast like this one did.
> 
> If there are any glaring errors feel free to message me so I can beat my head against my desk some more and cry about this stupid chapter lol.

 

 

Opening his eyes, Keith found himself staring into the sleek interior of his room on board the Castle of Lions. It was quiet, and for that Keith was grateful. There was still the ambient buzz and whirr of machinery, but no one had pounded Keith's door down yet. Which was more than a little surprising considering how the day had gone. It felt like it had been hours since Lance had dragged him back to his room. Someone should've bothered Keith by now, surely. Yawning, Keith snuggled down into his blankets. His eyelids were starting to grow heavy again, and anything that required higher functioning seemed like a chore.

Thinking could wait until later, Keith decided. Much, much later, if he had any say in the matter.

Smiling, he allowed himself to be lulled by the gentle drone of the ship. To Keith’s sleepy brain it was almost like the sound of tumbleweeds, rattling across the parched, dry earth. Naturally, that had Keith thinking about the desert, and about his little back on Earth. Sinking further into his subconscious, Keith felt something stir in the back of his mind. Warm and comforting it wrapped him placid affection and soothed the aching thrum beneath his breastbone.

Drifting off, Keith slipped into dreams that brought him visions of home.

Here, the shack looked very much the same as it did in the waking world. On the wall, the tack board was still littered with papers and hastily scrawled notes. The make-shift coffee table was still scattered with empty water bottles and the lumpy couch in disarray.

It was all just the same as Keith had left it all those months ago. The light was strange though. It reminded Keith of an old photograph. Fuzzy and indistinct, it leant a surreal quality to air around him. Frowning, Keith turned to inspect his surroundings. There nothing out of place as far as he could tell. Drawing up close to the tack board, Keith was in the midst of squinting at a note fastened to it when he heard something.

Down the hall, there was the soft scuffle of boots moving across the floor.

Curious, Keith turned toward the noise. He took a few steps in the direction of the hallway and squinted against the bright, diffuse light. Slouched against a doorframe, someone was waiting. Broad and familiar, the figure was silent. Despite the silence, Keith still knew who it was. There was no way he _couldn’t_ know who it was. Not with how his breath rattled in his lungs and his heart leapt into his throat. Keith took a step forward, intent on moving closer.

The hallway stretched suddenly long. The strange, fun-house effect left Keith’s belly rippling with nausea even as his legs began to feel as though they were weighted down. Dread tightened his skin and crept up his spine until Keith was panting against it. Down the long sweep of the hall, the familiar bulk of Keith’s companion became small and distant.

 _“Run!”_ A voice like Keith’s own shouted.

Keith didn’t need to be told twice. His legs moved of their own volition, kicking out as he scrambled to reach the other end of the hall. It seemed the floor became rubbery and unstable, miring Keith down where he stood. Panicked, he glanced up to find the hallway rapidly stretching out. The sight of it was dizzying and Keith pinched his eyes shut against the sickening vertigo. Helpless, he cursed out in frustration. When he blinked his eyes open seconds later, the movement around him had stopped.

Ahead, the figure was waiting still. It was as though he hadn’t moved at all. Frowning at Keith now, he angled his head to the side as if curious. He seemed as though he wasn’t sure what was keeping Keith so long.

Swearing, Keith tried to take another step closer. The floor grabbed at his legs, holding him fast. Gracelessly, Keith’s arms spun as he wind-milled forward. The second his palms smacked into the floor, it had them as well. Well and truly stuck now, Keith released an explosive snarl.

“Mother quiznakking fuck-dicks!” He shouted.

Something like a chuckle bounced through the walls of the shack and reverberated through Keith’s skull. Glancing up, he watched as the figure shook his head in fond exasperation. Then he was sighing and holding out a hand to beckon Keith closer.

With an invitation like that, there was only one thing for Keith to do. Sitting up, Keith found himself freed. He took a step forward and in a blink, he was toe to toe with the figure in the hallway. The strange skip in awareness nearly had him tripping over his own two feet. Shooting out a hand, Keith steadied himself against the solidness of another body. When he glanced up, he found that his companion was grinning; boyish and handsome.

“You’re here,” Keith observed quietly, unable to keep the wonder from his voice. He _knew_ this person. Probably better than he knew himself.

“I am,” The figure agreed.

Keith's grinned. He felt his chest expand with something bright and exultant. It spilled out between the two of them, like a circuit finally locked into completion. Floored, Keith bent forward, dropping his head against the broad curve of a muscular shoulder. There was a confession lodged in his throat, but words felt paltry in comparison to what was sparking and shivering in his chest.

It was just a dream though, and Keith knew it wouldn’t last. Not when a sound, grating and intrusive, was lodging itself in Keith's ears. He couldn’t tell where the noise was coming from, only that it had ripples running through the shack. Around him, the colors were already starting to run.

They blurred and swirled together like ink on wet paper, becoming a mess. Disappointed, Keith felt his stomach clench. Everything was about to go to shit, just like it always did and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” The figure assured.

Keith shook his head. “It’s really not,” He replied.

The dream dissolved.

It was gone in an instant and when Keith opened his eyes found himself staring up the ceiling. The ticker in his room beeped loudly again and Keith glowered at it. No more than a wisp now, the dream was gone and it was all the stupid ticker’s fault. Groaning, Keith pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes.

The dream, as far as dreams went, hadn’t been all that bad. Keith had experienced worse to be sure. Even so, there was something disquieting that settled heavy in his gut. Something about it had felt unfinished, almost like a portent. It prickled and loomed and left Keith feeling out sorts. He didn’t _like_ it. But like most things in Keith’s life, there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it.

“Uggh, why do I have to be awake right now?” He asked with a grunt.

Surprisingly, it was Keith’s stomach that rumbled out in reply. Or maybe not all that surprising considering it had been hours since Keith had last eaten. Never-the-less, It pulled a curse from him as he flopped over onto his side. It was still far too early to start the day. Unfortunately for Keith, his brain was awake now and his thoughts were spinning in seven directions at once. Giving up on the idea of getting back to sleep anytime soon, he shoved his blankets aside.

“Fuck it,” Keith announced and hauled himself upright.

Stomping toward the bathroom, he decided not to bother with the lights. He was nursing a slight headache, and it pulsed weakly at his temples as he relieved his screaming bladder. Once that was accomplished, Keith made quick work of cleaning up and then padded back into the bedroom. Even in the gloom, Keith was quick to spot the strange plate on the table. Curious, he scraped his hair up into a messy ponytail and moved closer.

Stacked up with some sort of pastry, the plate was just sitting atop the table innocently. Suspicious, Keith frowned. They had to of come from _somewhere_ , which meant that someone had been in his room. He suspected it had been Hunk, because who else on board could actually cook? Stomach rumbling, Keith snatched up one of the pastries and gave it an experimental nibble.

Despite it being an alarming shade of food-goo-green, the taste was actually nice. Bright and sweet, the flavor of osibok berry caught Keith by surprise. Groaning in delight, Keith crammed the rest of the pastry into his mouth and snatched up another.

“Nnngh, Hunk, you fucking wizard,” Keith praised between bites. “I fucking love you, man.”

Making quick work of demolishing the rest of the pastries, Keith wondered if there were any more hiding in the kitchen. Hunk probably wouldn't mind him pilfering a few more, and if he _did_ mind Keith would just apologize later. Decision made, Keith scrambled into a pair of jeans and a moderately clean t-shirt. The socks were not clean in the slightest, but it wasn't like anyone was going to be smelling his feet anytime soon, especially while they were crammed into his boots. It was only as an afterthought that Keith snatched up his jacket on his way out the door. He wasn't sure he'd need it, but the castle tended to be a little cold with the systems on idle.

Wandering out into the vast, empty castle, Keith couldn’t help but feel that the stillness was strange now. He had never taken much stock in the supernatural, but with what he had seen in Blue’s memories it was surprising that there weren’t any ghosts wandering the halls. Especially given the seemingly magical properties of quintessence and Altean tech. Alfor had basically downloaded himself into the Castle’s equivalent of the cloud for fuck's sake. Disquieted by the thought, Keith quickened his pace and slid into a lift at the far end of the billeting hall. 

Pidge would probably laugh if she knew that Keith was seriously considering the possibility of haunted computers. That didn’t stop Keith from giving the console in the lift wide-berth though. The last thing he needed was for the thing to go Space Odyssey on him. _Again_. After their close-call with that exploding star, they couldn’t be too careful. Thankfully, the machinery only hummed quietly as the lift descended.

Slouching against the far wall, Keith idly wondered what the others were up to. Given the hour, it was very likely that they were still asleep. Rationally speaking, Keith knew the thought shouldn’t have bothered him. Still, it stung a bit, especially with his loneliness spilling out of him like a leaky sieve. Discomfited, Keith reached for Red.

Silent, she was evasive and irritated despite Keith’s prodding. That stung even more, and after several failed attempts to get her attention Keith gave up with a huff.

“Fine,” He said with a snort.

Slouching against the wall of the lift, Keith pulled into himself. He wasn’t sure where the idea came from, only that after a few ticks of indecision he closed his eyes. Tentatively, Keith fumbled toward his friends, ignoring Red completely. Deep in their dreams, Lance and Hunk didn’t offer much conscious interaction. Even so, Keith lingered a few moments with each of them, feeling out the shape of their subconscious thoughts.

Drifting along with Hunk, Keith felt his nose tickle with the scent of warm, fresh bread and fragrant spices. Lance, meanwhile, was giving off the distinct impression of wet sand between his naked toes and the sun hot on his back. It was nice and eased something of Keith’s sadness. He didn’t stay long, however. Delving any deeper felt a bit too much like eaves-dropping, so eventually, Keith drifted away.

From there he followed the thread that lead to Pidge. He got a small ripple of acknowledgment from her, but she was annoyed with him. She cursed him for disturbing her rest, then shunted him aside none too gently. Keith didn’t blame her though. She had been asleep after all, and she probably wasn’t too happy with his antics from the previous day.

Huffing out an amused snort, Keith slumped against the wall of lift. He didn’t feel quite so alone now and distantly he felt a rumble of approval from his lion. Easing away, Keith was in the middle of contemplating whether or not he should actually try and speak to Red again when he felt a curious little nudge from Shiro.

Sleepy and sluggish, it was more the impression of thought than any sort of concrete message. Still, without meaning to, Keith found himself reaching back. Peaceful and unwavering, warmth vibrated along their link. It only lasted a few seconds, then Shiro was drifting away, blithe as he slipped back into sleep. Keith smiled as he drew back. He was still smiling when the lift came to a halt and the doors swished open.

“Nerd,” He chided with affection, then strode off in the direction of the kitchen.

Once inside, it didn’t take very long to ransack the place. If Hunk thought his hiding place was clever, he clearly had never been faced with Keith’s grumbling stomach. Tucked in the back of a cooling unit and obscured by a box of osibok berries, Keith found the pastries just waiting to be gobbled up by an intrepid explorer. Snatching a couple, he took his snack over to one of the many counters to enjoy with drink pouch.

It was only after he had finished that Keith encountered a bit of a problem. With hours to go before the others woke for the day, there really wasn’t a whole lot to do. Training was an option, Keith supposed. Or he could go hit up the library. Neither activity sounded all that appealing, however. Wrinkling up his nose, Keith wandered back to the cooling unit to pilfer yet another pastry.

“Now what?” He asked, hoping that his lion would give him at least a little input.

Red, the traitor that she was, dismissed him entirely. Sighing, Keith padded out into the hall. It was his aimless feet that brought him up to the command bridge. It was as good a place as any to have a restless wander. Entering through the main portal, Keith’s boots echoed loudly in the large, empty chamber.

With the main lights switched off and the heavy solar shields engaged, the room was close and claustrophobic. The auxiliary lights cast strange, rippled shadows across the walls. Glowing in eerie shades of teal and blue, it reminded Keith of the inside of an aquarium. He’d gone to one once as a child, but the memory had him scowling. It hadn’t been a particularly good day. He’d been scared of being crushed under the weight of all the water. It hadn’t helped that his foster siblings had taunted him about it for days following the incident. Here and now, however, it was an easy fix. Thumping over to the nearest workstation, Keith tapped out a few commands.

A shudder went through the ship. Then Keith heard the grunt of machinery as the heavy solar shields disengaged and slid away to reveal a bank of massive windows and the night beyond. Tipping his head up, Keith drew in a long breath. It felt much better now, standing beneath the glow of crisp, clean starlight. He no longer felt hemmed in by the oppressive darkness. Rolling his shoulders to alleviate any lingering tension, Keith moved to situate himself near one of the large windows.

Below, in the distance, the lights from the Vyjni settlement were steadily twinkling. Reaching out, Keith pushed his palms to the glass as he gazed out at it. Beyond the settlement, dark vistas unspooled in the pre-dawn light. Almost, Keith thought, he could squint hard enough to pretend that he was back on Earth. Almost he could convince himself that his life was his own to be selfish with. Almost he could pretend that he was just Keith. Someone untouched by a soldier's responsibilities or the crushing weight of a war that had spanned the course of ten millennia.

It was a lie though, no matter how much Keith wanted it to be true.

Soon the sun would rise. It would break on a new day, where Keith would bear the burden of the role he had been chivied into by his Father's choices. And while Keith had long since accepted that, he still wished that things were different. That _he_ was different. Sighing, Keith pushed his forehead into the glass. His chest was starting to pulse with discomfort again so he mashed his fist into the spot. Coran's explanation, while helpful to some extent, hadn't really brought Keith any closer to understanding how any of this actually worked. Irritated, he frowned. Then, like a flash, something occurred to him.

“Fuck it,” Keith said, turning his awareness inward.

If Resonation was like the bond between paladins then Keith could follow it back. Pinching his eyes shut, Keith quested out along the thread of it. It was strange, like touching a live-wire or trying to grab something with numb fingers. The sensation prickled out along his skin, sharp and hot until he was shivering where he stood. But it _wasn't_ coming from Keith. Not this time anyhow. Drawing in a sharp, startled breath, Keith floundered his way along the pulse of the discomfort and was taken aback by who and what he found there.

It was _Shiro_.

Who, at the very core of him, was just as lonely and sick at heart as Keith was. The revelation had Keith retreating so abruptly that it left his head spinning. He was still reeling when the doors of the command bridge suddenly swooshed open. Even for as addled as he was, Keith's fingers were still on his belt in an instant. He had his knife out before he could even process what was happening.

Whirling around, Keith found himself met with the sight of Shiro standing in the doorway. Tense and wary, the Black Paladin was poised as if to attack. His arm glowed faintly purple in the dim light. Hissing out a relieved breath, Keith sagged against the window.

“Jesus fuck. Way to scare the shit out of me!” Keith exclaimed, albeit a little guiltily. He jammed his knife back in the sheath and scrubbed a hand down his face.

Across the room, Shiro’s posture softened. His arm deactivated and he offered Keith a sheepish little shrug. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be up here.”

Keith wasn't sure how to take that. There was a strangeness to the way that Shiro was holding himself which told Keith that the statement wasn’t exactly true. Abruptly he realized something. Shiro had been _looking_ for him. It was obvious now that he really thought about it. Cursing himself, Keith scowled. He had woken Shiro earlier while... Well, spying, for lack of a better word.

Grumbling, Keith slouched further where he stood.

“Oh,” He replied, irritated with himself.

Across the room, Shiro regarded him quietly. He didn’t say anything, not yet at least, and Keith was fine with that. It gave him a chance to think and prepare himself. Because he knew Shiro would eventually want to talk about what had happened and Keith sure as hell wasn't ready for that. Not when he could feel the way his stomach was tightening with anxiety. Not when there was a definitive awkwardness that clanged between the two of them. Keith wasn't sure how he was even supposed to act now. Things were _different_ and he had no idea how to even begin to reconcile that.

Chewing his lip, Keith’s attention was drawn from his thoughts by a soft sigh. Glancing up he found that Shiro was frowning. Not only that, Shiro’s posture was stiff and straight, despite the way he fidgeted.

“Look,” Shiro said, frustration coloring his tone. “If you want to be alone, I can go. I know it’s been kind of a weird day. I get it.”

This was stupid, Keith decided. Absolutely ridiculous. Never had he ever felt so wrong-footed, especially with Shiro of all people. Huffing out a sigh, Keith thumped his head against the window.

“It's not--” He began, irritated. But his throat closed around the words. Swallowing heavily, he thumped his head on the glass again. He started over, opting to go the safer route. “...Lance told you what happened?”

In the doorway, Shiro shrugged. His expression was a careful mask of neutrality.

“Sort of. He didn’t want to go into detail, which is fine. That’s for you to share when and if you want to,” He explained. “He did tell us that the two of you figured out that your dad was the former Blue Paladin though, and that he was forced to make some pretty hard decisions.”

Keith snorted out that, angry and bitter. “Hard decisions my ass,” He said, unable to keep the naked hurt from his voice.

Across the room, Shiro made a soft, troubled sound. Keith pinched his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see the look on Shiro’s face because he knew what was flowing out between the two of them unchecked. It left him feeling flayed apart and too raw to give it voice. Spreading his palms out across the cool glass instead, Keith attempted to ground himself. He had to reel himself back in before he said or did something that he would regret.

 

Several ticks later, Keith opened his eyes. He didn’t feel any better, but the edge of his gloom had dulled. Glancing over in Shiro’s direction, Keith frowned at the discovery that he was being watched. The look on Shiro’s face was peculiar though. His dark brows were pinched together and his eyes were soft with something like sorrow.

Flustered, Keith huffed out a breath. It doused some of the fire. “I'm sorry, about earlier, I mean, yesterday. I didn't mean to run off. I just... My head was a mess and I just reacted and--- Sorry. It was a lot to handle.”

“I bet it was. From what Lance said it sounded like a lot,” Shiro returned, sympathetic.

For some reason, it grated on Keith's nerves. It left him feeling like he'd done something wrong, despite his apology. Gnawing at his lip, Keith dipped his head to scowl at the floor. He deserved to be reprimanded. He had run off without considering anyone's feelings but his own. He had made himself more important than their mission and had wasted valuable time and manpower. Not only that, Keith _knew_ he had let his friends down. There had to be some sort of consequence for that. He needed some sort of penance to make things right.

Because what Keith was getting right now? Even coming from Shiro it felt more like pity than empathy. Fists clenching reflexively at his sides, Keith snuck a glance in Shiro's direction. The other man was hunched up against the door he had come through, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. It was a bit stand-offish and almost, Keith thought, that Shiro looked wary. It left Keith feeling even more out of step.

Growling in frustration, he scraped his fingers back through his hair. Stilted and jerky, the motion tugged a few strands of hair loose from his scalp and only served to make his ponytail all the messier. But the movement wasn't enough to ease the buzzing frisson thrumming through Keith's body. It demanded action. That Keith do something, _anything_ , so long as it entailed just fucking moving already and--

He was halfway across the room before he even realized it.

“Takashi, look, there’s something I have to say,” Keith began, determined.

By the door, Shiro went tense. His head whipped around, alarm stamped plainly across his face. He looked startled. Like he was bracing for some sort of impact. That alone was enough to knock Keith off-balance. He stumbled, feet suddenly like lead inside of his boots. Distantly, he heard the bark of warning from Shiro and the scuffle of feet on the floor. Then, there was the press of flesh-and-bone fingers as they dug into the meat of Keith’s forearm.

Embarrassed, Keith cursed. Pain speared out from his breastbone, making it difficult to breathe. Every time Keith’s lungs expanded and contracted there was a sharp zing of discomfort. He pinched his eyes shut, ignoring the horrible wheezing sound that he was making.

“Errr, sorry,” Keith mumbled, voice hoarse. He’s wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for.

“It’s fine. Are you all right?” Shiro replied at length. His tone was carefully neutral.

Keith didn't look up as he nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak, convinced that he would blurt something out to further alienate himself. He did sway closer though, drawn in by heat of Shiro's body. The shared proximity seemed to shake some of the strangeness away because the grip that Shiro had on Keith's arm softened. Then Shiro’s warm fingers slid down to curl around Keith's.

Keith couldn't let the opportunity go to waste. Not when it was the first time in days that he hadn't felt the distance that had been yawning between the two of them. Seizing the opportunity, he tangled Shiro's fingers up in his own and squeezed. Slowly, ever so slowly, the ache in Keith's chest began to ease. Leaning in close, he drew in a long breath and was pleased to find the tightness in his lungs had lessened as well.

“Ah. There you are,” Shiro said quietly.

Confused, Keith glanced up to find a small smile curling the corner of Shiro's mouth.

“Huh?” He asked.

Shiro's smile grew a fraction. He shook his head, amusement crinkling the corner of his eyes. “Nothing, I just-- Well, I was wondering where my best friend had gone. He's been kind of MIA lately. Looks like he's back now though, so nothing to worry about I guess.”

Keith felt his shoulders tense up. Guilty, the tips of his ears went hot and he wilted where he stood. There was no good excuse for it. There was nothing that Keith could say that wouldn't expose him for the coward that he'd been. Frowning, he dipped his head.

“...Takashi,” He began, then floundered, unsure of how to proceed.

Shiro gave his fingers a little squeeze. “Let's get out of here,” He said, surprising Keith. “I know it's early but we can take one of the speeders and go for a ride or something.”

Keith didn't even have to think about it. “Okay,” He replied.

The smile that spread across Shiro's face was soft and shy and entirely relieved. Nodding, he shuffled back a step and then turned toward the door, dragging Keith along by their joined hands. It was enough to send Keith’s frenzied thoughts spinning into hyper-drive. It wasn't that he _wanted_ to let go, Keith was just surprised. Surprised enough that his face burned. Surprised enough that all Keith could think about was the way it felt to have Shiro's calloused palm pressed against his own.

Moving down the hall, Shiro ducked into one of the castle's many lifts. Pulling Keith along with him, he only leaned away long enough to key in the floor for the hangar. He nudged back into Keith’s side afterward, a furnace of heat and comfort.

Fighting the urge to shuffle closer, Keith held himself carefully still. They still hadn’t really talked about much of anything, but the strain between them was better now. The gulf didn’t feel quite as wide or as deep, and that was enough to ease some of Keith’s tension.

 _Fuck it_ , he thought, feeling suddenly reckless.

Shuffling closer, Keith gave Shiro's hand a squeeze. Then he dropped his head to lean it against Shiro’s shoulder. Keith didn’t hear, so much as feel, the sharp intake of breath that came from above. Glancing up, Keith found himself faced with wide, grey eyes. They lingered for the span of a few seconds, then Shiro was jerking his head aside to stare resolutely, if not sheepishly, ahead. The ropey skin of his scar stood out in sudden contrast, highlighted by the flush of heat on his face.

“You're being weird,” Keith blurted before he could stop himself.

The comment only served to deepen the color on Shiro's face. Making a soft little sound, he shifted, trying to extricate himself from Keith's grasp.  “Sorry, I'll just--”

Keith held tight, stubbornly refusing to let go. “No,” He said with a scowl. “Just stop moving. I was comfortable.” Which seemed like the most logical thing to say, despite the way Keith's pulse was thundering in his ears.

It worked, however, and Shiro stilled. Settling beside Keith again, he slumped against the lift wall. When it finally slowed to a halt, and the doors swished open, the tension in Shiro's shoulders had eased. He tugged Keith out of the lift and into the hall by their linked hands. By the time they reached the hangar his awkwardness had, for the most part, fled. He wasn't the color of Red's paint job anymore, Keith noted. He was even offering Keith a small, bashful smile. It was... Charming. And distracting. It had Keith chewing at the inside of his lip as they made their way over to one of the unmanned speeders.

“Makes me wish we had that old hoverbike,” Shiro said, tone wistful, as they came to a halt.

Smiling faintly, Keith finally released the other man's fingers and gave him a little shove. “Same,” He agreed. “Altean tech is cool and all, but there's just something about the open sky and a fast ride,”

Turning, Shiro angled a grin in Keith’s direction. “I bet I can get this thing to do a few tricks.”

Keith couldn’t help the lurch of excitement that caught him low in the gut. His mouth turned up in a challenging smirk. “Just turn the windshield on, Shirogane,” He said. “I don’t feel like eating alien bugs.”

Shiro snorted out a laugh as he ducked his head. “Okay, okay. C'mon,” He said. Then he was scrambling up and into the speeder.

Following suit, Keith clambered up as well and slid into the passenger seat. Buckling in, he watched as Shiro switched the craft on and went through the startup procedure. Flicking a switch, the particle barrier came on with a hum. It shimmered electric pink for a tick, then resolved into something clear and glass-like. Keith preferred the open view over the dark tint and shot a grateful smile in Shiro's direction.

Returning the smile with a grin of his own, Shiro buckled in. Then, carefully, he eased the speeder out the hangar and into the night. It wasn't as nimble as the hoverbike or even their lions, but that didn't stop Shiro from putting the small ship through its paces. Once they were clear of the castle, he raced out across the wide expanse of the grassland, pushing the craft faster and faster.

It was familiar. Comforting even. True, there was no wind in Keith’s hair or solid body of warmth to press into, but Shiro was still just as mesmerizing to watch. He was all refined grace and careful discipline at the controls. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but apart from that, his expression was placid and untroubled. Shiro always made it look so damned easy, which was something Keith had always admired.

They cut through the alien terrain easily enough, and the long grass whipped and rattled in the wake of the speeder's passing. Over the rush of wind and the hum of the engines, Keith could hear the startled buzz of fleeing insects and other wildlife. Thankfully, they don't disturb anything larger than a small, deer-like creature. Swerving expertly around it, Shiro cut the speeder away before any damage could be done. Which was good, because the last thing Keith wanted to do was to explain to Allura and Coran why there were guts and gore all over one of their ships.

The rest of the ride was blissfully uneventful. Eventually, they came to a grassy hillock miles from the castle. Slowing the speeder to a halt, Shiro shifted gears and cut the engine. Curious, Keith leaned forward to peer out the front of the craft. The particle barrier gave a fizzling snap, and then it disabled. Sparing a glance in Shiro's direction, Keith was up and out of his seat before the other man could get a word in edgewise. Because now that they had stopped, Keith suspected that Shiro would want to talk.

Honestly, Keith wasn't sure he was ready for it. His stomach churned as he squinted out into the distance. There wasn't much out there, at least as far as he could tell. It was still just a shade too dark to see much of anything aside from shadowy dips and valleys. With the darkened landscape set against an equally dark sky, Keith wondered why Shiro had stopped here of all places.

“It’s better in the daytime,” Shiro explained as if reading Keith's thoughts. His voice was quiet. “I found this place earlier while we were out looking for you. It reminded me a little bit of home I guess.”

Feeling suddenly guilty, Keith stopped where he was hovering near the nose of the speeder. Turning, he angled Shiro with a sheepish look. Under the glow of the ship's forward lighting, Shiro's expression was very nearly blank save for the frowning curl of his lip. For some reason, it made Keith uneasy.

“Lance said you were pissed earlier,” Keith blurted. “I know I already said sorry, but I am. Sorry, I mean. I didn’t mean to make you angry or whatever. Why were you angry anyway?”

The question had Shiro deflating where he stood. His nose wrinkled up in frustration and he puffed out a short little grunt. He didn't reply though, at least not right away. Keith could still make out the scowl though, and the perturbed slant of Shiro's brows. He was annoyed about something, but just what that something was, Keith had no idea.

The situation, most likely. Or Keith. Or maybe even himself. Knowing Shiro as well as he did, Keith supposed it could have been all three. It wasn't as though Keith made things easy. He didn't expressly mean to cause trouble, but somehow it always wound up that way.

 “Look,” Keith said as he dug the toe of his boot into the ground in restless agitation. "I fucked up. If you want to chew me out, just chew me out. I shouldn’t get a pass just because--”

“I’m not going to chew you out, Keith.” Shiro interrupted in helpless exasperation.

“Well, you fucking should!” Keith snapped, whirling around to glower up at Shiro.

Shiro said nothing. But his jaw did tighten and Keith could see where it caused the tendon in his neck to stand out. Keith puffed out an annoyed growl and turned away sharply. In the few minutes they had been there, the sky had begun to lighten. Focusing on the pale streak in the distance, Keith tried to calm the thundering beat of his heart. Out, across the grassland, miles in the distance, he could just barely make out the shadowy recesses of a forested woodland. From it rose craggy rock-faces which jutted out toward the sky. 

Keith could see why it reminded Shiro of home.

Sure, it wasn’t the desert, but there was something about the sweeping, open landscape that tugged at Keith. Almost, it seemed familiar and a sense of Deja-vu had him recalling another place in another time. A place where the dry, shifting earth had given way to rocky mesas and Shiro had been bathed gold in the dying light.

“I wasn’t _angry_ ,” Shiro explained quietly, breaking the silence. “I was worried. About you. And I lost my cool.”

Drawing in a long breath, Keith scuffed the toe of a boot into the dirt again. Discomfort had him wringing his hands together and cracking his knuckles. He wished he could compel himself to just hold the fuck still, but the twitchy nervousness buzzing under his skin wouldn’t let him. It had Keith mashing the heel of his palm into his sternum because it was starting to hurt. _Again_.

“You know,” Shiro said, “I always wondered why you did that. I always thought it was a nervous habit, or anxiety or something. I guess I never really thought about it until now.”

Immediately, Keith stilled. He was ready with a scathing remark, he really was. It shriveled up on his tongue, however, the moment Shiro reached out to enclose Keith’s hand in his own. Carefully, Shiro pried it free of Keith’s chest and gave it a squeeze.

“Coran told me about what he said to you,” Shiro admitted quietly.

Startled, Keith glanced up. “Oh…I see,” He replied, voice soft and flustered.

Tentatively, Shiro crowded in close. He pressed their joined hands against his own chest where his heartbeat thundered against Keith’s hand. Almost immediately Keith felt his face flame hot. He glanced aside, finding it difficult to maintain eye-contact.

“Coran said that Alteans bond differently than humans do and--” Shiro began.

“It doesn’t matter,” Keith interrupted, tone bitter. He could feel himself getting worked up, could feel the way that his voice became rough and angry. “I'm only half Altean and a fucking broken one at that. I'm not like them or anyone else. I'm not _anything_ , Shiro and I--”

“Hey, no—Shh, none of that,” Shiro admonished gently. He tugged Keith in close and wrapped him up with warm arms. “I've got you, you're okay.”

Sagging, Keith tucked himself in against the warmth of Shiro’s body. Slowly, the tightness began to leech from Keith's limbs. Wheedling closer, he nudged his nose into the soft underside of Shiro's jaw. It was prickly with stubble, and Keith could smell the remnants the mildly citrus scented soap they all used. For some reason it had Keith puffing out a jittery, pathetic wheeze. On his back, Shiro was rubbing soothing circles into Keith's shoulder-blades.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a dick,” Keith said once he felt calmer. “It’s just been a shitty, shitty 24 Vargas and talking about it sucks.”

“I can understand that,” Shiro replied gently. “But I think we can both agree this has more to do with what happened yesterday.” He said. He eased away to pin Keith and expectant look.

Bristling, Keith glowered up at Shiro. “I already apologized, what more do you want?”

Shiro drew in a long, unhappy breath. He wasn't quite scowling, but his disappointment was palpable. Turning aside, he took a step back.  "You already know what I want, Keith,” He said, voice tight and hurt.

Keith _did_ know. But knowing did nothing to quiet the pound of his pulse in ears, or ease the rush of anxious guilt. It also did nothing to prevent Keith from lashing out.

“No, I fucking don't know,” Keith snapped. “I'm not a goddamned mind reader.”

Growling out in frustration, Shiro whipped his head in Keith's direction. His hands shot out, grabbing Keith by the upper arms.

“I want you to talk to me!” He snapped. His voice was low and urgent. “You’ve been avoiding me for days now, Keith and I hate it. Just talk to me, dammit! If I did something to--”

Keith didn't want to hear it. “Let go of me!” He snarled.

Stunned, Shiro released his grip in an instant. Keith still wrenched aside, stumbling as he spun backward. He could feel the vibration of Shiro's stupefied shock clanging through their connection. Keith's throat tightened as guilt raked its claws along his insides. Frustratingly enough, tears stung the corners of his eyes. Keith didn't dare look in Shiro's direction though. He was damn well terrified of what he might see there.

“I was jealous, okay?!” Keith confessed. The shame of it left his face flaming hot.

Several paces away, Shiro was quiet. When Keith glanced up he found Shiro frowning in confusion.

“...What?” Shiro questioned, taken off guard.

Grunting, Keith scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “I was jealous! It was stupid but I couldn’t stop and I’m… I’m sorry, okay?”

“But why were you jealous? I don’t understand,” Shiro pressed.

Keith balked. He didn’t want to say it. It felt too big, too complicated to try to explain with words alone. Saying it would give away far too much of what Keith had been keeping clutched so close to his chest for all these years. But even as he clung to his secrets, he could feel it all unraveling. Keith could feel it in the way that the place beneath his sternum throbbed painfully, and in the way, his tongue rebelled against the thought of being silent.

“You have their colors!” Keith confessed in a rush, his voice a hoarse whisper.

It was a list of all Keith’s hurts laid bare before the only person who really mattered. In his chest, there was a lurch of fresh pain and it almost tore the breath from his body. Nearby Shiro released a soft, surprised sound.

“Keith,” said Shiro quietly.

Stubbornly, Keith looked aside. He couldn't stand the thought of a careful rejection, or an apology or anything else Shiro might do to spare his feelings. He didn't want that, he didn't want any of that. The only thing he wanted was---

“Fuck,” Keith whined. His eyes welled with tears and spilled over.

Keith scrubbed at them violently with the ball of his fist. He itched to scream out that it wasn’t goddamned _fair,_ to shout and rage and explode. He knew it wouldn’t help, though. He _knew_ that. It didn't stop Keith from seething or digging his blunt fingernails into the palms of his hands as his body shook. It was better than punching the speeder at any rate, which had been his first impulse.

Nearby the grass rustled. It was Keith's only warning before smooth, mechanized fingers pressed to his chin. The touch sent a jolt of yearning straight to the core of him, and Keith couldn't stop the soft, helpless noise that escaped his throat. It had him crying harder.

“Keith,” Shiro tried again, soft and kind. “Hey, c'mon.”

“ _What_ , Takashi?” Keith demanded, unable to keep the sting of hurt from his voice. Angry, he jerked his head upright to scowl at Shiro through his tears. “Just say what you’re going to fucking say and get it over with, okay? I can't fucking _do_ this anymore.”

Shiro, undeterred, drew in a long, steadying breath. His expression was far kinder than Keith expected, though there was a troubled crease in his brow. He thumbed at the dampness on Keith's face, with careful gentility.

“Do you remember when we were at Garrison?” He asked. “There was that day when we were sitting out in the quad and it started to rain.”

Keith couldn’t help the bitter snort of laughter that exploded from his throat. Did he remember? Of _course,_ he remembered. He remembered it vivid, heart-breaking, technicolor detail. That Shiro was asking about that _now_ , after all this time and after all that had happened, was ridiculous.

“Yeah, I remember,” Keith responded irritably. “I got soaked and I thought-- Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. None of it matters because _nothing_ happened.”

“….Nothing?” Shiro questioned, small and miserable.

Taken aback, Keith glanced upward. Shiro looked absolutely bewildered. More than that, Keith could tell he was upset. The line of his mouth was pursed in a frown, and his jaw tensed with each tightly controlled breath.

“What?” Keith asked, unwitting as he mirrored Shiro's soft, sad tone.

Shiro's expression darkened into a stormy scowl as he searched Keith's face for...Well, for what Keith wasn't sure. He could practically see the gears turning in Shiro's head though. There was something Shiro was puzzling out. Some terrible revelation that he was reaching toward that Keith wasn't sure he wanted to be party to.

Sniffling, Keith shouldered his arms free so that he could dig his palm into his chest. His head was starting to feel as though he were floating and the pounding pain in under his sternum was splintering off into his neck and shoulders. When Shiro reached out to grab his arm, Keith jolted with alarm. He looked up to find Shiro's face writ with devastation.

 _“What_?” Keith asked again, demanding this time.

“You never knew,” Shiro observed simply. “All this time and you _never_ knew.”

“Knew _what_?” Keith questioned. His voice had risen an octave, cracking and straining under the stress of anxiety. “ _What_ didn’t I know?”

Something hot and terrifying shuddered between them. It had Keith's lungs feeling as though they were seizing in the cage if his ribs. He shivered, vision going spotty as he gasped out in alarm. Keith barely registered the press of Shiro's palms against his skin as he drew close. Their foreheads bumped and Keith could feel the way Shiro quivered against him.

“Shit, no—Shh, Hey, you’re—Just breath, okay? I'm sorry, I didn't—Breath with me,” Shiro directed. There was a strange hitch to his breathing, but otherwise, he was calm.

Keith nodded helplessly, trying to focus past the tickle of Shiro’s pale hair across his cheek. Pressed as close as they were, Keith could see the tiny flecks of gold in Shiro's eyes, and the delicate grace of his fanned eyelashes.

“Good, that’s good,” Shiro praised. His thumbs smoothed along Keith’s jawline and the gesture soothed them both. “Nice and slow. Can you do that for me?”

Again Keith nodded. Slowly, slowly, the fuzziness receded from his vision. Timing his lungs to the steadiness of Shiro's breathing, Keith felt himself calm by increments. Shiro's thumbs continued to drag along his cheekbones, his breath puffing hot against Keith's skin.

“I dreamt of you while I was...Gone,” Shiro said at length. “Not always, not every night, but I did. At first, I thought-- I don't know. I just missed you so damned much. You were all I could think about sometimes.”

The confession surprised Keith. It surprised him so much that he reached out to curl his fingers around Shiro's wrists to hold them tight. He blinked up at Shiro as confusion wrinkled his brow. Suddenly it seemed so stupid that they had never really discussed any of this. Then again, between leaving Earth, landing on Arus and becoming Paladins there hadn't really been time.

“I missed you too,” Keith said, low and urgent. Hoping to clear the air. “I missed you so fucking much. You _have_ to know that, Takashi.”

“I did. I _do_.” Shiro replied gently. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “That isn’t what this is about though. Not really. The dreams… Eventually, you were all I saw when I closed my eyes and I didn’t mind but I wanted so badly for it to be real and---”

“But it _was_ real,” Keith interrupted impatiently. He knew where this conversation was heading. He beat Shiro to the punch. “I dreamt of you too. I think I always suspected that they were more than just normal dreams. I just didn't know what it meant. Or maybe I did and was just afraid, I don't know. But I saw you too, sometimes I _was_ you. I was there when they strapped you to that table. ”

Shiro stiffened. His breath went a little ragged and Keith could feel himself being dragged into the mire of Shiro's guilt. He nearly staggered under the weight of it, and desperately Keith attempted to wall himself off, to untangle himself before it consumed him whole. Ichorous and black it oozed into all the raw and exposed places inside of him, and Keith was gasping. He didn’t _want_ it.

“Takashi, stop it,” Keith commanded, fierce but quiet. He dug his fingers into Shiro's forearms and gave them a bit of a shake. “You had no control over what they did to you. It wasn't your fault.”

Shiro, pinching his eyes shut tighter, made a terrible wheezing groan. Wet gathered on his dark lashes and he shivered where he stood.

“Keith,” He breathed. “I-- I'm so sorry.”

Cursing, Keith wrestled himself free and threw his arms around Shiro's head. He all but dragged the older man closer, and Shiro sagged gratefully. He pressed his forehead into Keith's shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around Keith's middle.

“It's not your fault,” Keith repeated, speaking into the shell of Shiro's ear. “And I'll say it as many times as it takes to get it through your thick skull."

Grunting out a short, wet laugh, Shiro curled his fingers into the soft fabric of Keith's shirt. Their connection vibrated with something soft and sweet and sad. Slowly, Shiro was able to master himself. When he finally did, Keith was able to breathe again. In his arms, Shiro's trembling tapered off, and he peeled back until they were temple to temple.

“I thought that you knew,” Shiro said at length. “When I came back. I thought you knew but that you didn’t-- I don’t know. I thought maybe you changed your mind. Or that you didn’t want to make things more complicated, or that you wouldn't--”

_That you wouldn't want me anymore._

It jangled between them like the discordant notes of a Tritonus, ugly and Diabolus. And while Shiro didn't actually say it out loud, Keith still felt it down to his fucking bones. Tangled as they were, there was no keeping of secrets; no separation or filter to safely compartmentalize and hideaway.

“But, why would you think…” Keith began. He back-peddled though, shaking his head. He didn’t want to ask that question. “Just…Just tell me already. You’re literally killing me right now. _What didn’t I know_?”

“It was _there_ , Keith,” Shiro replied. His voice was hushed and fervent. He turned, angling his head so that their noses bumped. “Your mark, it was there. Where you touched me that day in the rain. At the time I didn’t understand why it took so long to show up but... But if you’re part Altean then--”

Keith pinched his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure if he believed it or not. After wanting it for so long, it seemed impossible. Swaying forward, Keith couldn't help the sound that slipped from his throat. It was low and broken. Tears welled up in his eyes again as he pushed himself closer to Shiro.

“..How can you be sure, though?” Keith demanded.

Through the thread of their connection, assurance flooded Keith’s awareness. It swept through, dulling the pain in his chest until it was nothing more than a pin-prick ache. It felt infinite and indisputable. A thing that was, and forever would be. Like the sun setting in the evening and rising with the morning. It was hard to argue when Shiro was so sure of himself.

“I wasn’t, at first,” Shiro replied. “It didn’t even look like a soul-mark in the beginning. I thought it was just another scar and then it started to itch and burn. Then you were with me like this weight on my chest and I just knew, Keith. I just _knew_.”

It _couldn't_ be that easy. Nothing in Keith's life had ever been that easy. He didn't believe it for a second, despite all the evidence to the contrary. He couldn't believe it. Twisting a bit, he tried to shirk away from Shiro’s grasp.

“Yeah, but…” He began.

“No, shh, just _listen_ ,” Shiro commanded gently. He held tight. “You know that night we went out into the desert? After I found out about Kerberos?”

Keith didn’t speak but made a soft, affirmative noise in agreement. His own memory of that night was a bittersweet one, but almost he could picture the way Shiro had looked in the fading sunlight. Almost Keith could see the shape of Shiro’s smile limned in gold.

“The sky was… It was amazing,” Shiro continued. His fingertips dug into the small of Keith’s back.  “It was like fire and you looked-- You were _glowing,_ Keith _._ Your mark it...It was like that night. It was like fire in the sky and it was _mine_ and they took it from me. _”_

Keith’s throat tightened. In the stillness between them, he could hear the ragged pull of his own breathing, as well as Shiro’s. He still couldn't quite grasp it. He couldn't make himself believe it was true. And while Keith didn't say anything, Shiro must have felt the dragging, bitterness of his skepticism because he blew out a string of soft curses in his native tongue and crowded closer.

“Why won't you just---You always have to fight everything, don’t you? It drives me up the damned wall,” Shiro said with a huff.

Cracking an eye open, Keith found himself being scowled at in equal parts annoyance and affection. Something along the same vein was thrumming through their connection, as well as something sweeter; something that felt suspiciously like—Well, it had Keith’s eyes itching again in response.

“Cut me some slack, asshole. I’m bad at this shit,” Keith replied. There was no real heat to it though. He could feel himself slipping, could feel the way that Shiro was wearing against his defenses.

“It was _there_ ,” Shiro repeated at length, voice firm. “It was there and I’ll say it as many times as it takes to get it through _your_ thick skull.”

That startled an astonished bark of laughter from Keith. It was wet and terrible and the noise somehow metamorphosed into a hiccupping sob. Keith didn’t try to stop it, nor did he even attempt to cap the spill of emotion that flooded out between them. But for all that Keith was hurting, the place beneath his chest did not. Something heavy and warm pushed into the spot, suffusing Keith with its presence. It felt like love, fearless and unabashed. Keith, at a loss, had no fucking clue how to react.

“Takashi,” He murmured and even to his own ears, it sounded like a plea.

“Sshh,” Shiro soothed, earlier annoyance forgotten.

Their noses bumped as Shiro jostled closer. Then Keith felt the warm press of another mouth on his own. A rush of air went out his nose and he pushed up into the kiss, heedless of any finesse or grace. It had Shiro releasing out a startled groan as if he hadn't expected Keith to return the gesture, or even want it for that matter.

 _Idiot,_ Keith thought

He had wanted this for a lifetime. Since before Kerberos, since before that day in the rain, since before even then, he suspected. Keith had always been on a crash course for just this moment. He just thought that it would never happen. He wasn't about to let it go to waste. Seizing the opportunity, Keith slid his arms back, his hands cupping the faintly fuzzy sides of Shiro's head as he deepened the kiss. It was good, so damned good and Shiro grunted as he bullied his way into Keith's mouth to initiate a sweet, yet demanding give and take. The flat of his palms slid up Keith's back, up beneath Keith's jacket where his fingertips pressed possessively into Keith's shoulder blades.

Connection blazing, it burned Keith from the inside out. It was bright and intense and Keith felt a bit like he was caught in an endless feedback loop. He couldn't quite disengage himself from Shiro. He couldn’t quite parse out where his emotions ended versus where Shiro’s began. Almost, it was too much and it had Keith whining into Shiro's mouth. Overwhelmed, Keith was reminded of his early days with Red, where her presence had all but steamrolled him.

Shiro knew Keith though. Shiro knew Keith well enough to be able to read his tells, and body-language. He must have realized something was amiss because he eased back, leaving Keith alone in his own head. He gentled the kiss as well, smoothing the flat of his flesh-and-bone palm over the small of Keith’s back.

It was better now, and Keith basked in the gentle give and take of their lips against one another. Shiro was sweet; equal parts reverent and adoring as he plied Keith with affection. He slid away from Keith’s mouth, brushing fleeting kisses up along his jaw and down the bridge of Keith’s nose. He didn’t stray for very long, and when he returned to lay claim to Keith’s mouth, he was solicitous and wanting.

“Do you believe me now?” Shiro asked after drawing away. He was close enough that his mouth brushed Keith’s as he spoke.

Letting out a breath, Keith closed his eyes. He felt...Like he was floating. Like he'd come untethered and was flying far, far above the ground they stood on. Vaguely, he was aware of himself nodding, and of Shiro's fingertips on his cheekbones.

“Maybe,” Keith said after a few ticks. “...But if you want to keep trying to convince me, I might be down for that.”

Shiro's amazed laughter was a puff of warm air across Keith's mouth. “Yeah?” He asked.

Keith nodded words escaping him. Focusing inward, he made an attempt at grounding himself. The airy feeling inside of him was threatening to carry him away. But for all that, Keith felt light. Happy, even. He opened his eyes and peered up at Shiro where he was met with a soft look and warm grey eyes. Shiro’s smile was beatific, his face flush with delight. He was utterly gorgeous.

“You look...” Keith began, amazed.

Shiro's smile widened as he ducked his head. He nibbled at his lower lip. There was something decidedly bashful about the way he wrinkled his nose.

“...Uhm, thanks? I guess?” Shiro replied, breathless and coy.  

Keith’s belly lurched in response. It was primal and possessive, as was the urge to lay claim to Shiro’s mouth again. Keith brushed forward, trying to be genteel. He was demanding instead, purposeful as he tasted the shape of Shiro’s smile for himself. Shiro sighed under the onslaught, quick to acquiesce. He arched closer; sliding a hand down to cup the curve of Keith’s backside to haul him nearer. A sharp swoop of heat caught Keith low in the gut. He growled into Shiro’s mouth then broke away with a gasp. Keith’s mouth veered toward the hinge of Shiro’s jaw, painting it with nibbling kisses as Shiro rubbed a solicitous hand into the small of Keith’s back.

“Is this okay?” Shiro asked. His tone was light but there was gravel in his voice that made it deeper.

“Fuck—Yeah—I mean Yes. It’s…Yeah,” Keith replied, distracted by the pillowy softness of Shiro's mouth.

Shiro was nibbling kisses into Keith's skin, following the line of his jaw to the vulnerable junction of his neck and shoulder. Keith sighed and tipped his head back, allowing access. He could feel their connection shivering with a whole multitude of things. Things that made him tremble where he stood. Keith sighed, scraping his fingers into Shiro's hair. Beyond them, the sky had lightened enough to reveal the distant hills. The light was creeping across the grass-land, painting the sky in pastel.

Smiling, Keith shut his eyes. There was a sense of pristine and perfect stillness flowing out between them. A shiver of prescience tumbled down Keith’s spine and the feeling vibrated through their link. Keith knew Shiro had felt it too because he shuddered against Keith. The effect was only momentary, however. It passed between them, and mere seconds later Shiro was back to pressing open-mouth kisses into the heat of Keith’s skin. Eventually, his lips dragged a warm path up along Keith’s chin. They veered up to the place between Keith’s eyes for a brief peck and then Shiro was easing away.

“We should actually talk about this,” He chided gently.

“I guess,” Keith agreed reluctantly.

“No, really. We should talk about this,” Shiro returned, serious despite the way he pressed in against Keith’s forehead.

Keith leaned closer, stealing one kiss and then another. “Fine, okay,” He agreed. “As long as I can do this at the same time. It’s been so long and I---”

It was Shiro who stole the kiss this time, slow and lingering. He pushed his thumb into the apple of Keith’s cheek, brushing it along the spot. “Whatever you want,” He breathed. “Just so long as we actually _talk_ about it.”

Behind them the comms in the speeder suddenly jolted to life. Startled Keith whipped his head in the direction of small ship. Shiro’s arms tightened reflexively around his middle.

_“Hello~oo, Speeder, who's out there this fine morning?”_

It was Coran. He sounded impossibly chipper given the hour.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Keith cursed.

Shiro sighed and sunk his head into Keith’s temple. “We should…” He began.

Keith grumbled. “…Why does God fucking hate me?”

 

 ***

 

 

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” Pidge announced as Keith made his way into the dining hall.

Pausing near the door, Keith glanced up to find himself met with three sets of expectant eyes. Self-conscious he squashed the urge to flip the collar of his coat up. He knew that by doing so it would only draw more attention to what he wanted to hide. That is, if the others hadn’t already spotted the mottling of scarlet bruises along his neck and jaw. The blush that had him red right to the tips of his ears probably didn’t help either.

“Uhhh,” He finally replied, albeit stupidly.

At the table Lance, Pidge, and Hunk were watching him carefully. Pidge’s expression was smug. Lance looked a little tired but amused. Hunk, for his part, was as cheerful as ever and blithely unaware of Keith’s anxious fidgeting.

“Oh, heeeey, Altean-Keith,” Hunk greeted between nibbles of pastry. “You have a nice little Altean nap?”

Blinking, Keith looked between the three of them. He felt a bit like he’d missed some sort of vital social cue. “Uhhh,” He repeated.

“Dude, you’re being weird about it!” Lance hissed in Hunk’s direction. He knocked his bony elbow into Hunk’s side which prompted a bit of a kerfuffle. “I told you not to be all weird about it. You know what he’s like. He gets all sensitive and emo about shit!”

“Geeze, okay! Sorry!” Hunk yelped in response. He shot Lance a dirty look before turning his attention to Keith. “Sorry, Keith. Come have some breakfast, man. There’s even food goo if you want it. Alteans love food goo.”

Keith couldn’t even find it within himself to scowl. He grinned instead, which earned him a bright smile on Hunk’s behalf. Moving toward the table, Keith flopped down in a free spot.

“Actually, this one likes pastries better,” He shot back as he reached out to snatch one up for himself. He crammed it in his mouth, wolfing it down boorishly.

 Pidge scoffed in disgust. “Ugh, you heathen. Can you eat like a normal, bi-pedal humanoid who was raised on planet Earth please?”

“Nope!” Keith replied cheerfully. Crumbs exploded from his mouth, which had Pidge letting loose a disgusted squawk.

“Alteans,” Hunk sighed as he turned in Lance’s direction with arched brows.

Snorting out a laugh, Keith tucked into his breakfast. Around him, the conversation continued heedless of his input, which was absolutely fine with Keith. Hunk and Pidge's tech-talk, for the most part, always went right over his head and they were knee-deep in it. It was so normal and par for the course that Keith was glad. It had him feeling a little less like his entire world had been flipped upside down. Smiling, Keith gulped down some water. After a few moments, he tentatively lowered his mental defenses and reached toward his friends.

Easy and without expectation, Keith found himself linked with them. Hunk’s warmth came through like a sunny, summer afternoon, while Pidge’s wry but earnest regard whispered against the back of his mind. Lance, meanwhile, was all playful affection and brotherly antagonism. It felt nice, familiar even. Drinking some more water, Keith lingered a few moments then carefully withdrew. He made a point of leaving himself open though. He finished his breakfast in comfortable silence and for once didn’t feel like the odd man out.

Keith was picking at the crusts of his fourth pastry when the conversation veered away from the lions and toward something else. He perked up just in time to hear Pidge clear her throat.

“So,” She began. “About yesterday.”

Groaning, Keith slumped in his chair. “Yeah, okay. I was an ass. I’m sorry.”

“Wow,” Replied Hunk in amusement. “Altean Keith is so nice. I kind of feel like normal Keith would be grumping right about now if he were here.”

“Yanno, he did actually apologize yesterday, guys,” Lance pointed out, much to everyone’s surprise.“It was kind of weird but he did and I didn’t even ask him to.”

“Yeah, but was it Altean Keith or normal Keith who apologized?” Hunk questioned in all seriousness.

“Altean Keith _is_ normal Keith,” Keith replied with a frown. He was starting to feel a little like the others were ganging up on him. “Can you guys just-- I’m sorry okay? How many times do I have to say it?”

Slouching forward, Pidge gave a little shrug. “Probably five or six. You still have Coran and Allura to talk to. And Shiro, if you haven’t done that already.”

Unable to curb his annoyance now, Keith scowled in Pidge’s direction. “I already talked to Shiro, so can you please lay off? I said I was sorry, what more do you want?”

“I think you guys made your point,” Lance added. “Yesterday was pretty shitty, so I think he deserves a bit of a pass, okay?”

That seemed to quell the needling. Across the table, Hunk slouched in his seat looking abashed and recalcitrant. Pidge wrinkled her nose in defeat and started to pick at the corner of a half-eaten pastry on her plate. Keith, for his part, wasn’t sure what to say. Anger diffusing itself, he glanced in Lance’s direction. The blue paladin gave a little shrug, apparently unsure of what to do either. Keith shifted awkwardly in his chair.

“Uhm,” He began. Pidge and Hunk looked up. “...Thanks for the pastries by the way. They were good. I ate like twelve of them.”

“Oh,” Hunk replied a little quietly. “Erm, thanks. I thought you’d be hungry so--- Sorry for giving you a hard time, man. We were all pretty worried about you. Lance told us a little about what happened. It sounded like it sucked pretty hard.”

Swallowing heavily, Keith nodded. “Yeah, it did.” He agreed.

Around the table, the four of them slipped into silence. It was heavy and slightly uncomfortable and left Keith floundering for something else to say. It took several ticks, but eventually, Pidge shifted forward in her chair. She folded her arms atop the table and locked eyes with Keith.

“Sooo, erm, you said you already talked to Shiro? Did you talk about....everything?” She questioned.

Hunk, cutting in, added: “Yeah, where is he? I haven’t seen him at all this morning.”

Keith squirmed in his seat. Desperate, he tried not to think of the way that the early morning sun had shone in Shiro’s hair or the way Shiro had pressed biting kisses into Keith’s skin after Coran had hailed them. He tried not to think of the way that Shiro had promised, in a low, raspy voice, that they could see one another later. Keith also tried really, really hard not to think about what had happened in the speeder afterward. It was a fucking disaster though because now that he was trying not to think about it, he was thinking about it. Slamming his mental walls up, Keith felt his face flame hot. _Again_.

“Uhhh..” Keith said. He slapped a hand over his neck to try and hide some of the marks that Shiro had sucked into his skin. It wasn’t subtle in the slightest. “...I haven’t seen him in a while?”

Around him, the room erupted in a series of scandalized exclamations.

“Oh, fucking snap! You guys totally hooked up!” Lance squawked.

At the same time Hunk was all but wriggling in his chair. “Oh my god, that’s so cute! He’s blushing!”

Pidge, meanwhile, was watching Keith like a hawk. Her expression was shrewd and calculating and Keith didn’t like it at all. Flustered, he tried to shout over all the noise Lance and Hunk were making.

“Guys! We didn’t-- Okay, we did sort of-- _Butnotlikethat_!!”

From where he was sitting, Lance shot Keith a wicked grin. “So you _didn’t_ talk?”

“No!” Keith shot back, frustrated. Then, realizing how Lance had set him up, rushed to amend the statement. “Yes!”

That only had Lance hooting with absolute glee. Before anyone could stop him, the blue paladin started belting out in song. “Shiro and Keith-ey sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

Keith didn't let Lance finish. He jumped up and hurtled himself over the table. Pandemonium erupted as dishes and cutlery went flying. Hunk, ever the peacemaker, joined the fray by trying to pry Keith’s fingers from the front of a flailing Lance’s shirt. Keith growled even as Lance squealed through the rest of the song.

Of course, it was right at that moment that the doors to the dining hall wooshed open.

“OH HEY, SHIRO,” Pidge shouted over the chaos.

Keith's grip went lax almost immediately and Lance fell to the floor with an indignant yowl. Slithering back across the table top, Keith wondered if it was possible to compel the ground to open up so he could just throw himself the fuck into it. His seat, which was still miraculously upright, was waiting for him. Keith dropped down into it with a scowl. Across the table, Lance had found his seat again as well. It's was with a measure of satisfaction that Keith noted that his friend was just as red as he was. Glowering, Keith silently dared Lance to pull the same stunt again.

Lance, blessedly, remained in his seat. He flicked his gaze in the direction of the door and after a moment Keith did as well. In the doorway, Shiro was looking between the four of them. The expression on his face was mild, but there was a slight indent in his brow that gave away his disappointment. Guiltily, Keith crossed his arms over his chest and slouched in his seat. Shiro arched a brow at that, and somehow that felt worse than being chastised. Keith scowled and glanced aside.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Shiro questioned after a beat of silence.

He didn’t _sound_ annoyed, which was a plus. But Keith knew Shiro well enough to know that he was not pleased with the behavior he’d walked in on.

“Lance was just being an asshole,” Keith replied tartly.

“Keith started it! We just wanted to know if he knew where you were! ” Lance exclaimed at the exact same moment.

Taking a step into the room, Shiro huffed out a sigh and frowned at the pair of them. “I see...” He returned, unimpressed. “Well I did come to grab something to eat. But since you asked, I was up on the bridge talking to Coran and Allura. We've got a lot of work to do today, the Princess wants to get everything sorted out A.S.A.P so we can head out.”

Around the table, everyone groaned, Keith included.

“Really?” Lance whined.

Shiro gave a nod from where he stood. “Really,” He affirmed.

“But we worked all day yesterday, can’t we have a break?” Hunk asked.

Shiro shook his head, and Keith knew it was a losing battle. The day was suddenly starting to look longer and longer. The ‘later’ that Shiro had mentioned earlier slid away from Keith where it hovered in uncertainty. The thought soured his mood considerably. He knew that they had work to do, he knew that being a paladin came first but... But god fucking dammit now that Keith had Shiro, he _wanted_ Shiro. And not even necessarily for anything untoward. Keith just wanted to...He didn't even know but--

“Hey, you okay?” Shiro asked.

A hand on his shoulder drew Keith from his thoughts. He looked up to find that Shiro was smiling at him, soft and affectionate. Around them, the others were engrossed in their own conversations again. Slumping with a sigh, Keith wondered what he’d missed.

"Yeah, I’m okay. I just… Kind of hoped we could hang out or something,” Keith said sullenly.

Shiro’s nose wrinkled, and his smile became apologetic. “Yeah, me too,” He replied. His hand slid up along Keith’s shoulder and came to a rest along Keith’s trapezius. “I wanted to… I’d like to hear more about your dad if you were willing to share.”

The request was simple enough. Even so, there was a beat of silence between them as Keith contemplated it. “Yeah, okay,” He agreed finally.

The corners of Shiro’s eyes crinkled as his grin widened. Keith, feeling suddenly reticent glanced aside. Shiro didn’t seem to mind the dismissal though. He pushed his fingertips into the knot of tense muscle at the top of Keith’s knobby spine and worked to loosen the muscle there. It felt nice, and Keith released a soft sigh as he allowed his eyes to slip shut.

Across the table Hunk and Lance were discussing the finer points of…Something. Keith wasn’t paying much attention, to be honest. Distracted as he was by the press of Shiro’s fingers, it wasn’t all that surprising when Keith found his awareness drifting away from the others. Half a heartbeat later Shiro was there, blanketing Keith in tenderness. Smiling, Keith bent forward in his chair. The fingers at the back of his neck slid upward into his hair to scratch into his scalp.

“Mmngh. Keep doing that,” Keith mumbled, pleased.

Amusement thrummed along their connection as Shiro puffed out a soft chuckle. “..Are you sure you aren’t part cat?” He teased.

Keith had a witty rejoinder somewhere tucked into the back of his brain. He really did. It just got a bit stuck. Keith was still trying to tease it out when Lance interrupted loudly from across the table.

“Dude. A blue mullet? That’d look so shitty. C’mon, Hunk. Get your head in the game.” He said.

“What are you guys talking about now?” Keith demanded with a huff. He cracked an eye open and frowned at his friends.

At Keith’s side, Shiro snorted in amusement. “Ah, he returns. Welcome back, Keith.”

Squirming in his seat, Keith wrinkled his nose in embarrassment. “Shut up, it’s your fault.”

Shiro made a soft, disbelieving noise that was entirely too bemused for Keith’s liking. He was about to sit up and give Shiro a little shove when Hunk spoke up.

“It could be kind of cool though. If I could change my hair color anytime I wanted I would,”

“Hunk, you realize that technically speaking, you can. We just have to find a space Walmart or something and get some hair dye.” Pidge pointed out.

Hunk frowned. He crossed his arms over his bulky chest and slid down in his seat. “It’s not the same though, is it?” He replied. “If Keith’s Altean and can shift all he has to do is think about it and BAM! Blue hair.”

“...But why would I want blue hair?” Keith asked in confusion.

“Hey, what’s wrong with blue? Blue is like, the best color ever!” Lance exclaimed, his expression twisted in an affronted scowl.

“You literally just said blue mullets were shitty,” Keith said.

Leaning across the table, Lance rolled his eyes at Keith. “Dude, I said blue mullets were shitty on you,” He corrected. “Open your ears, man.”

“You did not!” Keith shot back, exasperated.

Shiro’s fingers drifted down Keith’s neck, exerting just enough pressure to waylay the urge Keith had to jump across the table again. He drew in a long breath, forcing himself to swallow his ire. It worked to some degree, and as Keith relaxed, Shiro moved to toy with the loose ends of Keith’s hair instead. A pleased ripple vibrated between them, and for a second Keith resented their link being used as impulse control. He snorted.

“You play dirty, Shirogane,” Keith mumbled.

Shiro grinned, delighted with himself.

“So if blue is out, what about silvery-white like Allura?” Hunk suggested, headless of what was going on. A tick later he sat up in excitement and turned toward Keith. “Oh! oh! I bet if you asked her she could help you figure out how to unlock your hidden Altean powers!”

“Yeah but if he was able to shift when he was a kid his Altean powers aren’t hidden. They’re just... Locked,” Pidge pointed out. “But Allura probably _could_ help. She knows the most about the lions and quintessence and all that.”

Somehow that Lance shared that piece of information wasn't as bothersome as Keith thought it might be. Still, he shot Lance an annoyed look as he replied.

“I guess. It would be nice to actually remember what my family was like before everything went to shit,” He conceded. Then, because the others were angling him with guilty looks Keith quickly added: “So long as my hair doesn’t actually turn white.”

At the back of Keith’s head, the fingers that are scratching into his scalp went still. Then he felt a gentle tug as Shiro pulled at a hank of his hair.

“Hey. Watch it, you punk,” Shiro scolded, tone light. “There’s nothing wrong with white.”

Immediately Keith felt the tips of his ears go hot. “I didn’t mean it like that,” He shot back as he twisted in his seat to peer up at Shiro.

Shiro was grinning though, and there was something decidedly mischievous about the way the corners of his eyes were crinkled up. Angling his head to the side, Shiro hummed out a soft, considering sound, then he reached out to tuck several loose strands of Keith’s long hair behind an ear.

“Blue or white could be cool, but honestly I think red is more your color. There's just _something_ about it. It suits you,” Shiro said.

Sucking in a breath, Keith could feel himself going flush. He knew that Hunk, Lance, and Pidge were staring at them, but he couldn't quite bring himself to look away from Shiro. The other man’s smile was bright and happy and Keith could feel the echo of the sentiment humming against his breastbone. In fact, the feeling threatened to carry Keith off into the atmosphere at breakneck speed if he wasn't careful. When Shiro started to laugh, Keith knew he was fucking done for. Dumbfounded, he could only blink inanely up at the man he so desperately loved.

“Dude, I think you broke him,” Hunk announced from across the table.

Keith swallowed hard and drooped in his chair. Around him, the chatter commenced, but Keith couldn’t focus on it. Vaguely he was aware of Shiro outlining their plans for the rest of the day, but his brain was having trouble making sense of the words. It was fine, he decided. He’d figure it out once his head returned to his body and his brain rebooted.

In the meantime, Keith pressed his fist into his chest and rubbed the spot. It didn't hurt so much as it tickled, and after so long of wallowing in the constant ache, Keith found the sensation strange. Strange but definitely not unwelcome. Eventually, Shiro said something about Allura and Coran and meeting up with them to go over---Well, go over something. Keith wasn't sure. He only turned toward Shiro when he felt warm fingertips brushing down along his jaw.

“See you later, okay?” Shiro asked. He sounded a bit more hopeful than the situation actually warranted but Keith nodded regardless.

“Yeah, okay. See you later, Takashi.”

There was a bit of a spluttering, choked sound from across the room, but Keith ignored it. Hyper-focused on the faint dusting of pink that suffused Shiro's face, Keith was fascinated. The color had the scar cutting the bridge of Shiro's nose standing out in relief. Something twisted low in Keith's gut, possessive and wanting. It buzzed between them and had Shiro’s flush darkening. Bashful, he scrubbed a hand through his cropped hair.

“Yeah, I'll-- Later. I'll see you. Later. At a later time and—Yeah,” Shiro reiterated, needlessly. The error had him puffing out a soft, embarrassed laugh. Offering Keith a shy smile and one last shoulder squeeze Shiro turned to go.

It was only after he had gone that Keith realized the mistake. He also realized that he was grinning like a damned idiot. Puffing out a delighted snort, Keith tipped his head toward the ceiling. His brain was still up in the goddamned stratosphere, but Keith didn’t care in the slightest. Everything was perfect. _Amazing_ , even.

“Fuck me,” Lance said, stunned. “You two have it so bad, my dude.”

Sliding an eye in Lance’s direction, Keith could only smile. “I hear you talking, but like, I don’t even care. I don’t care at all. You could literally explode the world and I wouldn’t care.”

Across the table, Hunk leaned forward. He set his chin into the palms of his upturned hands and sighed out dreamily.

“Aww, it’s cute though. How can you not think it’s cute? He called Shiro by his given name. That’s like over 9000 friendship level in Japan,” He said.

Pidge, who had been suspiciously quiet for far longer than Keith deemed safe, leaned forward in her seat as well. Under the lights, her glasses glinted menacingly. Keith might not have cared about anything Lance had to say, but Pidge was another matter entirely.

Lacing her fingers together, Pidge set her chin atop her hands. “Keith,” She intoned sweetly.

Keith sat up. He wasn’t sure he liked her tone of voice. “…Yeah?” He replied, cautious.

“You said the two of you only _sort_ of talked,” She began. “So if you only sort of talked, and you two clearly haven’t resolved all that USTy goodness, what did you guys even do?”

Keith, who didn't like where this was going, felt the smile slide right off his face. “I don’t even know what USTy goodness even means,” He pointed out, defensive.

“The hickeys on your neck say otherwise, Keithy-Keith,” Lance sang out.

Pidge, not to be deterred or interrupted, turned and shot Lance a hard look. It took a second, but the blue paladin settled. The grin he sent in Keith’s direction was far too smug. It irritated Keith to no end.

“Look, we did talk. Well, a bit. It’s not all fixed but it’s much. We kind of got...Distracted.” Keith said.

“Distracted,” Pidge repeated with a roll of her eyes. “Distracted by what? Shiro’s beefy man-bod? Or was he distracted by your luscious raven locks and your mysterious allure?”

“Uhh....” Keith replied. He wasn't sure he wanted to dignify that question with a response. Not when he felt like he was being faced down by a Galra death squad. “Pass?”

That earned him an explosive sigh on Pidge’s part. She leaned back in her chair and smacked her own palm into her forehead. Then she spat out a most impressive string of curses. When she was finished, she twisted to pin them all with a stern look.

“All right, listen up, losers, coz I’m only going to say this once,” She announced.

Keith, groaning, slumped in his chair. “Pidge, _no_ ,” He attempted.

“Pidge, _yes_!” Pidge replied, cutting him off. “From here on out I declare operation Get-Keith-And-Shiro-In-Each-Others-Pants-So-They-Stop-Being-So-Damned-Angsty-And-Actually-Talk-About-Their-Repressed-Feelings underway.”

“Pidge. C’mon. It’s fine. We already sorted out the hardest part, the rest is—we’re going to talk about it. I promise.” Keith shot back with a grumble.

“Yeah, but how can you talk if you don’t even get the chance to? We can be your wingmen, Err, wing-people? So you and Shiro actually get some time to yourselves.”  Lance said.

“Also I kind of think we should call it something else. Just trying to get in someone’s pants isn’t very romantic,” Hunk added. “And since Keith is part Altean and Coran said that they pulsate or whatever, I think it’s probably a little more involved than just hooking up and--”

“Fine,” Pidge cut in. “We’ll call it Operation-lovey-dovey-Put-A-Ring-On-It-So-Keith-Can-Pulsate-All-Over-Shiro’s-Big-Man-Mea--”

“Pidge!” Lance shrieked in distress. “Oh my god I do not _need_ to hear about Keith pulsating on anyone’s anythi--”

“--How do you know he’s the pulsator? Maybe he’s the pulsatee? It’s super rude to just assume stuff like that just because Shiro’s physically bigger and--”

“—Fine, Hunk. Forget pulsating. We’ll call it-- ”

“GUYS!” Keith shouted over the anarchy. He was starting to get a bit overwhelmed. “Can we just not call it anything, please? I appreciate that you want to help but--”

But the chatter continued regardless of what Keith had to say. He supposed he should’ve expected as much considering who it was he was dealing with. Sighing he slumped forward on the table and hid in the cradle of his folded arms. Irritation aside, Keith couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection for his friends. Given their personalities, and how close they had all become it wasn’t surprising that they had made a mission out of trying to help Keith with...Whatever it was they were planning to help him with. Mouth curling into a small smile, Keith lifted his head. He watched as they continued to bicker on their side of the table.

“What about operation Liberate-Altean-Keith-And-Marry-Him-Off-To-Shiro-So-They-Can-Have-Sweet-Sweet-Human-On-Alien-Love?” Lance tried.

Pidge vetoed it immediately, her tone flat. “Yes, because operation LAKAMHOTSSTCHSSHOAL just rolls off the tongue.”

“Oh go quiz your nak. That was a good one!” Lance shot back as he wilted across the table.

Hunk snorted out a giggle. He reached out to give Lance a pat on the back. “Aww, cheer up, buddy. It was a good try?” He began. “Besides, I’m sure the only thing that Keith wants rolling off his tongue is--”

“OH MY GOD YOU GUYS. JUST STOP. I DO NOT NEED TO KNOW!” Lance all but bellowed.

Keith, despite his chagrin, laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed until the others were laughing as well. He laughed until he was crying and until his sides hurt and until he felt like he was warm and glowing all over. He laughed until he realized that all his life he had been looking for something like this and that Coran had been right about all along. He didn't need a color to confirm or deny his feelings. They had been right there all along.

“Actually,” Keith decided after a minute, between fits of helpless laughter. “Operation LAKAMHOTSSTCHSSHOAL has a nice ring to it. You guys should get that on a t-shirt or something.”

For a moment, the room went silent. So silent that Keith wondered where the crickets were. Then Hunk released a hysterical snort. Pidge followed suit, and moments later Lance had joined in as well. Their laughter was infectious, and Keith was breathless with it within seconds.

 

***

 

Later, much later, Keith found himself lined up on the command bridge with his fellow paladins. They had been late, of course, which hadn’t done them any favors with the Princess. Shiro alone was the sole exclusion to Allura’s ire. Stood off to the side, he frowned at the four of them as if trying to decide whether to be amused or annoyed.

“Now I realize we have been very busy lately, but that is no reason to shirk out duties. The sooner we finish the sooner we can leave,” Allura began. “Now. Does anyone care to explain why you were all so late?”

Silent, Keith glanced down the row at his friends. Pidge’s face was a mask of stoicism. Lance was looking at the ceiling as though it were infinitely interesting. Only Hunk seemed to be cracking under the pressure. He pinched his lips together. Then his cheeks puffed out and he made a noise that was startlingly similar to a trumpeting elephant.

“… _Lakamhots_ ,” Hunk blurted through his snorting giggles.   

The reaction was immediate. Lance shrieked with laughter, which sent Pidge off, which in turn had Keith doubling over in laughter. Keith tried to stop, he really did. But every time he looked in their direction he lost it again.

“Oh my,” Coran exclaimed. “Princess, I think something is terribly wrong!”

Keith howled, clutching his sides. He watched as Allura shot a displeased looked in Shiro’s direction.

“Shiro! What?—Paladins, we have serious work to do!” She said. “Would you _please_ get yourselves together?”

It was a losing battle. Linked as he was with the others, Keith could feel the way they all fed into one another. Each time he tried to calm down, he found himself triggered anew with a fresh wave of silliness. Coran certainly wasn’t helping matters either. He was flitting around them wildly, trying to discover the reason behind their hysterics.

“Maybe they have a case of Tickle-pox!” He exclaimed. “Or Wugnugian Nose Fever!”

“Err, you know, Coran, I don’t think that’s it,” Shiro said. He was trying to fight a smile of his own.

“Well whatever it is, they had best get it figured out,” Allura chimed in with a frown. “If they can’t take their duties seriously, maybe I need to work them harder.”

Keith laughed harder. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when the steady thump in his chest no longer ached or twinged. Not when he finally, finally felt like he’d found a place to call home. And certainly not when Shiro was smiling at Keith like he was fire raging across the sky, colors be damned.

This was more than enough. It was all Keith had ever really wanted.

 


End file.
